
Class±lJ!li2_L^ 
Book • 



PRKSI-:N'TI-n liY 



POLLOK'S 

COURSE OF TIME 

IN TEN BOOKS. 



I HE 



A POEM. 



BY ROBERT POLLOK, A. M. 



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, AN INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, 

A COPIOUS INDEX, AND AN ANALYSIS 

PREFIXED TO EACH BOOK. 



Twelfth American Edition- 



NEW-YORK : 

M'ELRATH & BANGS, 85 CHATHAM-STREET. 

1831, 






1 



DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, to wit .• 

District Clerk's Office. 

Be it remembered, That on the twenty-third day of 
February A. D. 1829, in the fifty-third year of the Inde- 
pendence of the United Slates of America, Leonard W. 
Kimball, of the said district, has deposited in this office 
the title of a book, the right whereof he claims as proprie- 
tor, in the words following, to icit .- 

" The Course of Time, a Poem. By Robert PolJok, A. M. 
With a Memoir of the Author, an Introductory Notice, a 
Copious Index, and an Analysis prefixed to each Book." 

In conformity to the "act of the Congress of the United 
States, entitled, " An Act for tlie encouragement of learn- 
ing, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to 
the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times 
therein mentioned ;" and also to an act, entitled, " An Act 
supplementary to an act, entitled. An Act for the encour- 
agement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, 
and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies 
during the times therein mentioned ; and extending the 
benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and 
etching historical and other prints." 

JNO. W. DAVIS, 
Clerk of the District of Massachusetts 



JOHN T. WEST, & Co Priiiltrs 

Judge and Mrs, Isaac R. Httt 
July 3, 1933 



IS 



PREFACE 



tTiiE following Memoir has been com- 
piled from the several sources which are 
noticed in the course of the narrative. 
Where the exact language has been bor- 
rowed, the usual signs designate it. 

The Introductory Notice and Analysis 
were prepared for the first edition of the 
^ Poem, that was accompanied with such 
additions. 

The writer is happy, if these accom- 
paniments may, in any degree, aid in 
promoting the circulation of a work, 
wliich he thinks eminently valuable and 
useful. 

N. W. F. 

Amherst College, Feb. 1829. 



MEMOIR 



The Rev. Robert Pollok was born at Muir 
house, parish of Eaglesham, about eleven miles s> nth- 
east from Glasgow, October 19, 1798. He was the 
youngest son of a very worthy and intelligent farmer, 
who still resides in the same place. His early days 
were spent with his father in such occupations as the 
seasons and the situalion demanded. His education 
was such as is common for the children of that class ol 
tlie people in Scotland to which his parents belonged. 
Being always fond of reading, he devoted to it the 
winters' evenings, instead of weisting them in frivolous 
amusements. 

In his fourteenth 3'ear he was sent to the village of 
Eag'esliara to learn the business of a cartwright. But 
an elder brother, who was pursuing his studies for the 
ministry, it is said, advised him to abandon mechanical 
pursuits, and prepare for the same holy office. The 
p'an was favored by his parents, and in 1813 he com- 
menced the study of the Latin language in a school 
in the parish of Fe'iwick. In October, 1815, he wcis 
admitted to the University of Glasgow, where, having 
atlf.nded the classes five years, he received the degree 



Vm MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 

of Master of Arts at the age of twenty-two. Here he . 
was a diligent and exemplary student, stood very high f 
in the estimation of his teachers, and obtained several > 
prizes, which were awarded to him by his fellows, j 
Before finishing his literary course, he suffered con- j 
siderably from impaired health 3 but does not seem to 
have suspected that he was preparing to be a victim 
of intense application. 6 

In the autumn of 1822, he became a student of the- 
ology in the seminary of the United Secession Church, 
under the Rev. Dr. Dick, of Glasgow. He attended, 
also, the theological lectures of Dr. Macgill in the 
University. The discourses prepared by him, accor- 
ding to the requirements of the Divinity Hall, attract- 
ed notice} but were by some of his fellow-students 
severely criticised} because it was impossible for aii 
genius like PoUok's to trammel itself by those mles of 
division and airangement, which are of indispensable 
necessity to common minds, and which are generally 
important in a sermon, in order to aid the apprehen- 
sion and the memory of the heeuers. After the usual 
attendance at the Hall of five sessions, he was licensed 
to preach, at the same time with his brother, in May, 
1827, by the United Associate Presbytery of Edin- 
burgh. 

It was about this time that his Poem was published, 
in the preparation of which, he had been much engag- 
ed, it is said, during the two preceding years. 

His first public discourse was delivered at Rose- 
Street Chapel, Edinburgh, of which the Rev. John 
Brown is minister. It was on the afternoon of Thurs- 
day, the 3d of May, the day of humiliation and prayer. 



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. IX 

before the celebration of the communion. The text 
,vas, 1 Kings, xviii. 21. " How long halt ye between 
;wo opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow him ; but 
f Baal, then follow him." The sermon is said to have 
t)een in some parts awfully grand, and to have produc- 
ed a most deep impression. " Many, we* doubt not, 
who heard him that day, will recollect the profound 
vOid eloquent discoui-se, which he delivered, in which 
there was a brilliant display of poetical imagery, 
combined with metaphysical acuteness and admirable 
reasoning ; and many, we doubt not, will recollect his 
feeble appearance, and the exhaustion, which was ap- 
parent ere he closed. Alas ! disease wels then making 
rapid inroads on his constitution, and his public minis- 
trations were soon to end for ever." Such was the 
fatigue occasioned by this single exertion, that he was 
immediately confined to his bed ; and, although in a 
few days he was partially restored, he preached after 
wards only three times. 

It was soon manifest to all buyiimself that an insidi- 
ous consumption had been preying upon his constitu- 
tion. " In the summer he removed from Edinburgh 
lo Slateford, a most romantic village in the parish 
3f St. Cuthbert's, delightfully situated on the rivulet 
called the Water of Leith, about three miles from the 
:ity. There, in the family of the Rev. Dr. Belfrage, 
uinister of the United Congregation of Slateford, he 
vas received with the utmost affection and respect. 
The salubrity of the air, and particular attention to 
iiet, it was fondly anticipated, would restore him to 

* London Memoir 



X MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 

vigor, especially as he had youth and the advantage 
of the season in his favor. The well known medical 
repuidtion of Dr. Belfrage, too, was fortunate for him 
in this delightful retirement. Finding, however, that 
his health was not reluming, he was, during the sum- 
mer, induced to take an easy tour to Aberdeen, in the 
hope that change of air and scene might recruit his 
exhausted frame. But the expectations of his friends 
were disappointed. He retunied, and it was evident, 
that disease wcis quickly hastening him to the grave." 
The treatment which he received at this time shows 
m what estimation he was held by those who knew 
him. " During Mr. Pollok's residence at Slateford, 
he experienced the utmost kindness and attention from 
a gentleman of the most distinguished reputation iu 
the metropolis. Dr. Abercromby. This gentleman 
frequently visited him, and tendered his medical advice 
with his friendly conversation. Many others in the 
metropolis, both laity and clergy of various denomi- 
nations, also evinced their respect for him by their 
solicitations. Among the f rmer, the Right Hon. Sir 
John Sinclair, who, at a public dinner, expressed his 
opinion of ' The Course of Time,' and the family 
of Dr. BJonro of the University of Edinburgh, ought 
not to be forgotten." " His friends and fellow-students 
in Edinburgh also frequently visited him, and cheered 
him by iheir conversations on formei days." " Of the 
kindness of Dr. Belfrage, Mr. Pollok always spoke 
with the most grateful enthusiasm. During his resi- 
dence at Slateford, that gentleman acted towards him 
as a father and a friend. Every thing which was 
thought conducive to his comfort was at his command,' 



.■MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. XI 

But the assiduities of friends were unavailing. " The 
summer hastened on, and Mr. Poilok was still the sub- 
ject of disease. It was now tliought necessary that a 
change of climate should be tried, and it was antici- 
pated that the salubrious air of Italy might restore him 
to health. The city of Pisa, in the Grand Duchy of 
Tuscany, wcis the place selected for his residence. To 
a mind like his, deeply stored with classical learning, 
and capable of appreciating the scenes of that delight- 
ful country, such a residence must have possessed the 
highest interest." Having made suitable preparations, 
and procured letters to learned men on the Continent, 
he left Scotland in the month of August, accompanied 
by his sister. " He proceeded by sea to England, 
and went first to Plymouth ; bvt the state of his health 
rendered it imp/^'ssi'ile for him to go forward, and only 
the hope remained that if ppared till the next summer, 
ne would perhaps be enabled to complete his journey. 
He therefore took up his residence near Southampton, 
at Devonshire Place, Shirley Common." Soon, how- 
ever, all hopes failed, and he wrote to his brother in 
Scotland respecting his situation, and observed to his 
sister, that he should not have left his home had he 
been aware of the state of his disease. Having lin- 
gered a few days, he expired on the 18th of Septem- 
ber, 1827 ; and before his brother arrived, his remains 
were deposited in the grave. His death was that of 
the true Christian, characterized by a calm faith in 
tne religion he had preached, and a cheerful hope in 
that redemption, whicn had been the theme of his song. 

The character of one thus cut off in the very mo- 
ment, in which he was bursting from obscurity into 



XU MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 

the full glory that now rests upon his memory it may 
be difficult to delineate. "His friends, public and 
private, can bear testimony to his many virtues. His 
excellence lay not in ostentation, but in the quiet and 
unobtrusive feelings of the heart. His disposition was 
generous, his heart, feeling and benevolent j and he 
loved his friends with that affection, which is cherished 
only by a noble mind." " In his intercourse with his 
friends and familicu" acquaintance,* he was cheerful 
and light-hearted ; and this disposition he retained till 
disease had altogether disorganized his nervous system. 
But like most men of studious habits, he wore an air 
of distance and reserve, when in the company of 
strangers." '' His religion was that of the heart ; he 
was pious, devout, humble, free from the conceits of a 
fancied perfection, and the impulses of a heated en- 
thusiasm. His mind was cast in too noble a mould to 
be impressed by the petty distinctions and animosities 
of sectarian prejudice, and his integrity rose superior 
to the hollow and superficial affectation of a spurious 
liberality." 

" His habitst were those of a close student ; his 
reading was extensive 5 he could converse on almost 
every subject 5 and had great facility in composition. 
His college acquaintances could perceive that his mind 
was not wholly devoted to the business of the classes j 
he was constantly writing or reading on other subjects. 
It was his custom to commit to the flames, every now 
and then, a great number of papers. Besides the 
regular exercises, he composed a number for his own 

* Magazine of Ref. D. Church, 
t Christian Review. 



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. XJU 

pleasure and improvement, and several of tliese were 
poetical." 

"Literary industry and solitary musing were not 
deemed the most important avocations in his fether's 
house ; and intrusions on his meditations at home often 
induced him to go elsewhere to muse. On these occa- 
sions, he often retreated to a neighboring farm, where 
a beautiful clump of fir-trees relieved the nakedness 
of a snot naturally uninviting. There, seated under 
the fairest of these, he composed a considerable part 
of his Poem. At a little distance in front, though en- 
tirely out of sight, a crystal stream of water gushed 
from a water-spout into a pleasant well, and thence 
pursued its course without a murmur through the low- 
lying meadows. The simple music of this little water- 
fall, mingled at times with the voice of the wind, as it 
rose or fell among the branches of the fir-trees, awak- 
ened emotions, to which may be ascribed a portion of 
that enthusiasm, which infused animation and wildnesj 
into his cherished melancholy. From this seclusion, 
he had a fiill view of the ' battlement of hills' formed 
by the lofty ' Ben Lomond' and other mountains, 
stretching beyond Dumbarton. At the southeast end 
of his father's house stand the trees, which he cele- 
brates in his verse. It is said that many a time he had 
been seen gazing upon them long and silently, and at 
length turning fi-om them with an air of gladdened 
pensiveness, indicating the elevated feelings, which, 
by some mysterious sympathy, they had excited. 

" Mr. Pollok's mind was certainly of a very superior 
order J of this, there need no other proof be given than 
Che encomiiuns, which his * Course of Time' has called 



XJV MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 

forth,— eucomiums, man}' of them, pemied before his 
death was known, but which did not ippear till after 
he had gone beyond the reach of earthly applause." 

This Poem, although of the four last bocks, he is said 
to have written nearly a thousand lines weekly, had 
long occupied his thoughts. The idea was conceived 
fourteen years i^.fore its publication, when he was a 
mere youth. " The reception it hcis met with from 
the public, is a sufficient testimony to the talents of its 
lamented author. Hl^ name is now recorded among 
the list of those illustrious Scotsmen, who have done 
honor to their country ; who, fron^. obscurity, have 
secured for 'themselves an unfading reputation; and 
who will be remembered by distant generations with 
enthusiasm and admiration." 

Previously to tlie " Course of Time," thi'ee Sabbath 
School Tales, written by him while a student of divin- 
ity, were published anonymously, entitled, ■' Helen of 
the Glen," " Ralph Gemmell" and " The Persecuted 
Family." The two latter are considered as the better 
specimens of his genius. " Ralph Gemmell" is properly 
a tale of the imagination; ''The Persecuted Family" 
is a narrative, the dilTerent parts of which are asserted 
by the Author to be severally true, although he does 
not pretend tliat they happened in the very same rela- 
tion which he has given them They both relate to 
events most intensely interesting in the history of Scot- 
land, the sufferings of the Presbyterians in the seven- 
teenth century. Pollok was a native of one of the 
districts where the cruelties were practised, which 
here disgraced the memory of the persecutors, and 
caused the names of the pious and patriotic victims to 



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. X\ 

be handed down in traditionary story ; and he seems 
to have formed a just conception of the character of 
the men, who thus sufiered wrong fi,r conscience' sake, 
and to have cherished a most lively sense of their 
eminent worth. " Every sigh/' says he in his Preface 
to the " Persecuted Family," " every sigh of our per- 
secuted ancestors is recorded in heaven ; every tear, 
which they shed, is preserved m the bottle of God. 
Why then should not their memories be dear to us for 
whom they bled, and for whom .hey died ? But it is 
not only that we may pay them our debt of gratitude, 
that we ought to acquaint ourselves with their lives ; 
it is that we may gather humility from their lowliness ; 
faitli from their trust in God} courage from their 
heaven-sustained fortitude ; warmtli from the flame of 
their devotion, and hope from their glorious success." 

Another work he had projected, which it is a cause 
of sincere regret that he did not live to execute. It 
was a work requiring genius, learning, and piety in the 
author, and which could not be properly accomplish- 
ed without exlraordinavy fidelity and patience. We 
think it, however, no small honor to him, both as a 
scholar and a Christian, that he had conceived the idea 
of " A. Review of Literature in all ages, designed to 
show, that literature must stand or fall in proportion 
as it harmonizes with Scripture Revelation." 

We close our glance at the life, character, and works 
of PoUok, with the language of one, who " loved him 
while he lived," and to whose brief Memoir we have 
been so much indebted in preparing it, " He hds 
gone the way of all the earth ; and his spirit, we fondly 
hope, is among the 'spirits of the just made perfect, 



fVl MEMOIR UF THE AUTHOR. 

who, ' by faith and patience, are now inheriting the 
promises.' But he lives in the hearts of his friends, 
who think of him with fond regret ; he lives in the 
hearts of his countr3Tnen j and his praise is not only 
in the church of which he was a licentiate, but in all 
the churches *' 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 



The " Course of Time" was published near the time 
of the Author's death. It appeared before the pubHc 
in a manner somewhat singular, without '' apology, 
proem, argiiment, or table of contents," with no pre- 
vious notice, no introduction, no dedication, nothing 
but its naked self, " A Poem in ten Books." It could 
not fail, however, to attract the attention of those, who 
knew how to estimate the pre-eminent worth of piety 
and genius combined. The enthusiastic approbation 
of the English Eclectic Review first awakened interest 
respecting it in tliis country, and prepared the way for 
its eager reception. 

What the decision of the professed literar}' critics 
v'ill be is yet uncertain. No one of the brotherhood 
has condescended to utter his oracle, and we will not 
predict whether any one will do it. But it will not 
surprise us, if this Poem shall be assailed with a storm 
1 of severest criticism.* 

1 * Since this was written, the " Course of Time" has been 
violently censured in some of the publications of the day. 
1 But it has been reviewed more fully in the ^inrit of the 
I Pilgrims, Southern Quarterly, and' Western Review, by 
I eacn of which, its high merit is acknowledged. 
I B 



XVin INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, 

For, in the first place, it has many faults. He, who 
chooses, may put his finger with a complacent sneer 
upon bad conceptions, bad figures, bad verse, bad 
syntax. He can cheer his eye with spots, where he 
may venture to write '■^ fi-igid," ^' prosaic." There are 
pages on which, if he has a pencil for such service, 
he may draw dark lines for defects and blemishes. 
The whole Poem gives proof, that the author scarcely 
devoted a moment, if he had opportunity, to the duty 
or drudgery of revision. Every thing dropped from 
his pen just as it burst on his thought, and is printed 
just as it was first penned. You have the exact strain 
poured forth under the original impulses of his inspi- 
ration, as he took the harp, and " rolled its numbers 
d,own the tide of Time." 

In the next place the fiction of the Poem is exceed- 
ingly simple, and perhaps will not comport with the 
received idea of an Epic. The whole story may be 
given in a sentence. — Many ages after the end of our 
world, a Spirit from one of the numerous worlds ex- 
isting in space, on his flight towards Heaven, discovers 
the abode of lost men in Hell j reaching Heaven, he 
inquires of Two Spirits, who welcome his arrival there, 
what is the meaning of the wretchedness he had just 
witnessed; the Two, unable fully to answer, conduct 
the iijquirer to a Bard who once lived on Earth, and 
he, in answering their inquiries, relates the history of 
man from tlie Creation to the Judgment. — Now here 
is no labyrinth of incident, no plot, no hero, no struggle 
against fated will of gods or wrath of men. And de- 
voted admirers of classical rules may complain of this, 
and cea<«ure Pollok as having no conception of tho 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. XIX 

genuine epic 5 especially as they may appeal to so 
illustrious an example as Milton to sanction their views 
of what is essential to epic composition. But we beg 
leave to say that we consider Milton's adherence to 
pagan models, and imitation of heathen fictions, as 
an actual and very unfortunate blemish m his exquisite 
poem ; and most deeplj' is it to be regretted that, to 
every reader of Paradise Lost, Satan appears to such 
a degree the Hero of the story, and is so exhibited, 
that the character of '' High Archangel ruined," wear- 
ing still " excess of glory obscured," has too much 
power to win the sympathy and the admiration, and 
to keep out of sight the character of Arch-fiend, foe 
of God and man. It is one of the points on which the 
' Course of Tmie' pre-emiiieutly deserves approbation, 
that it rises so fearlessly above the o'd artificial pre- 
scriptions for making up a poem; that it does not stoop 
to gather fictions, which, to put them at the best, are 
fi"ivolous and useless ; that, to secure interest and effect, 
it has not borrowed the miserable maciiinery of the 
stage, but rested wholly upon the intrinsic, incommu- 
nicable power of momentous reality. And if it be not 
shaped, in " beginning, middle, and end," exactly 
accoi-ding to the lav.s of Aristotle's or Horace's Art 
of Poetry, we do nut think it a deed of trespass un- 
pardonable. Yet, we apprehend, others may. 

There is a still more important reason for appre- 
hending that the ' Coiu*se of Time' will by many be 
condemned, or, at least, much undervalued. The po- 
etry is in the purest and highest sense religious. Its 
selectest topics are sacred. Its beauty, its sublimity, 
its pathos, is the peculiart)eauty, and sublimity, and 



fl£X INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 

pathos felt by pious minds. The inspiration of genius 
blazes and burns along the lines ; but it is not an 
inspiration kindled chiefly by philosophy, or taste, or 
classic study, or mere poetic observation of nature } 
it is the holy rapture which glows in the bosom of him, 
who has an eye of Faith, and a heart new stamped 
with the image of the Eternal Excellence. While, 
therefore, the poetry has a thrilling charm in its spirit, 
which bears up to the very throne of God every soul 
in which it strikes a responsive chord, and communi- 
cates to such a taste of joys feebly imagined by the 
crystal water and fruited tree of life, there is a class 
of readers, we fear, not small, who cherish none of 
the sympathies, with which its choicest notes are in 
unison. There is in the Poem much of that, which 
will necessarily waken in every cultivated mind high 
and delightful emotions of taste. But its principal 
value lies not in this. Its greatest merit, its crowning 
excellence, consists in its exhibiting in the author, and 
addressing in the reader, wiih such inexpressible feli- 
city, the peculiar emotions of those, who can sing of 
Redeeming Love. And to judge properly of such 
poetry, no matter what other characteristics it may 
possess, requires a tuning of soul never enjoyed, prob- 
ably never desired, possibly never thought of, and 
most certainly never justly conceived, by many who 
sit in the seat of the learned, and wield the pen of the 
critic, and count it fitting that they should guide the 
public in matters of literature. 

Finally, we are not without expectation that the 
conscience-riving gleam and flash of truth, which 
binrsts so often and vividly from the verse of PoUok, 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. XX\ 

will arouse the hostility of hearts not subject to the 
law of God. There is not merely the glowing of a 
seraphic fervor, that rises altogether above the expe- 
rience and the sympathies of the unsanctified spirit j 
there is not merely a beauty and a glory, which lie 
hid from the discernment of the natural man 5 but there 
is also a lucid, bold, cogent, resistless demonstration of 
revealed truth ; we do not mean argumentative, which 
too often only " plays round the head" and " comes 
not near the heart," but what is better, poetical demon- 
stration ; a full, bright, vivacious showing of it in some- 
thing of its native colorings and native power to take 
hold of men's feelings. Here is the Genius of Poetry 
wielding the Sword of the Spirit. The author deals 
not in dreamy fable, ingenious theory, vapid sentiment, 
or fanciful description 5 he echoes the simple, sublime, 
holy, penetrating truth of the Eternal Word. He 
pours from his harp the streams of Heaven's burning 
logic. They may not carry conviction to the biased 
understanding, but must often roll a scorching fire in 
upon the guilty conscience. We shall not think it 
strange, if such poetry be spoken against. 

But whether this Poem shall be left uncensured to 
its glory, or encounter high attempts to obscure its 
worth, it will live. It is not an ephemera. It has in 
it the seeds of immortality. It is neither secondary 
nor primary shining with borrowed lustre. It is a 
Sun. Spots we see upon it ; but it is a sun 5 a foun- 
tain rich of holy, poetic light, whence " other stars may 
fill their golden urns." The name of the Author will 
hereafter be associated with those of the noblest bards 
of England j even cold and careless readers will often 



XXll INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 

mention it together with Cowper and Milton j and there 
will seldom be wanta.g those, who will decidedly pre- 
fer the poetry of Pollok, " uttering as 'tis, the essential 
truth." 

One ground of our prediction is, as just stated, the 
inherent excellence of the work as a mere effusion of 
poetical talent. It has a reach and grasp, a fearless in- 
dependence, an original, enchaining power of thought, 
possessed only by gif'ed minds. It is studded with 
pearls not to be gatnered in common depths, nor borne 
from their recesses by common hands. Iis very faults 
indicate the locality of genius ; they are the baser sub- 
stances, which enter into the precious ore. 

The interest of the subject, also, is permanent. The 
Author sings the Destiny of Man. The theme is in- 
vested, not only with all the sublimities of Eternity, 
but also with all the personalities of individual Retri- 
bution. It addresses not the sympathies of a hero, or 
a patriot, or a lover of nature, as such 5 of European 
or American, bond or free, cultivated or rude. These 
arc (he accidentals of human nature, which change 
with circumstances and times. It speaks to the Im- 
mortal ; to the Something Divine within, which ever 
whispers of weal or wo to be hereafter in an miending 
future. 

Moreover, the poetry is such in Its spirit as coming 
ages will specially demand. The purifying waters, 
which the Gospel is now pouring over i..e world, will 
not cease to flow, when the idol temple, and the cres- 
cent and minaret of the false prophet, are trodden in 
ihe dust. A change is to be wrought in the commerce, 
die politics, and the literature of the Christian nations. 



INIRODUCTORY NOTICE. XXIJI 

Sliame aad sorrow belong to all who use the English 
language, that, even in this, the literature thus far hsis 
exhibited predominantly a spirit so utterly at vari- 
ance witli the spirit of the Gospel, or at least so utterly 
destitute of that spirit. We are of those, who freely 
profess to believe, that man's ijitellect is to reach its 
highest and noblest, as well as purest energies, in its 
nearest moral conformity to God, the Fii^st, Infinite, 
Eternal Intellect 3 and that the Gospel,just in proportion 
as the receiver and disciple yields himself to its guid- 
ance, carries the intellect upward in this holy approxi- 
aiation. The literature, to which minds thus elevated 
and inspired give biilh, must excel all other; and such 
alone, unquestionably, will be adapted to the demands 
of an age, in which the mass of mind shall be controlled 
by the principles of the Bible. Such a literature has 
not existed ; has not been desired. Men have seemed 
to consider a cultivated literature and a spiritual reli- 
gion as incompatible. It hcis beeu gravely said, that 
a man of ardent piety cannot produce a work that 
will live m after ages. We pronounce tliis a libel 
upon the Author of the human mind and the Sancti- 
fier of the human heart. Christianity does indeed 
humble the pride of ambition, mid forbid the destined 
companion of i;nfallen angels to weiste his redeemed 
and regenerated energies upon an intellectual toy to 
amuse the ungodly sons of Time ; but, in the same 
act, it opens to him a fount of inspiration infinitely su- 
perior to comparison with the fabled haunts of Muses, 
and presents a field of mental effort broad as creation 
itself, with motives such as carried the Son of God 
to the Mediatorial Throne through a Manger and a 



XXIV INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 

bloody Cross. And we thank Heaven, that we see 
the dawning' of new days ; 'that the life and immor- 
tality brought to light is beginning in a degree, and 
with a success most cheering, to spread its deep energy 
through several departments of social existence, from 
which it has been hitherto excluded. 

Among the harbingers of better days to come in 
the history of refined literature, we joyflilly hail the 
' Course of Time.' It has the relish of a cluster from 
the promised land} and is an earnest of millennial 
poetry. It breathes out balmy air, like breezes of the 
celestial City. It echoes thrilling music, as if from 
sainted choirs above, harping round the Throne. This 
poet drank not at pagan wells 5 but at the crystal 
spring where stood and drew the gifted seers and bards 
of Judah, there he quaffed deep and long the living wa- 
ters. His spirit had an eye to see the Sun of Righteous- 
ness, and went up to " feed upon his beams." Soaring 
to the mount of God, he caught of its altar-fires. To 
himself may be applied, with as much justice as to the 
renowned Poet of whom they are written, his owj^ 
words, — 

The Bard, by God's own hand anointed, who 
To Virtue's all-delighting harmony 
His numbers tuned ; who from the fount of truth 
Poured melody, and beauty poured, and love, 
In holy stream, into the human heart. 

To such inspiration the millennial sons of genius 
and lovers of poetry and letters will not, we trust, be 
strangers, as we are. Under the regenerating and 
fertilizing influences of such an inspiration, we antici- 
pate in the Reign of Peace a golden harvest of various 



INTRODUCTORY N0T1C2. XXV 

literature. As a sort of first fruits of this, we commend 
to every reader the Poem, which has occasioned our 
remarks. We dare offer it as a specimen of that, 
which will accord with the taste of a fast-coming age, 
in which the unsanctified productions of licentious, in- 
fidel, and impenitent genius will be impartially judged, 
and correctly estimated ; and we dare urge its repeat- 
ed perusal on every class of readers. 



INDEX 



PagB. 

Actions done, never recalled, . . 93 

Advocate, the faithless, 131 ; 179 

Age, old, childish, 219 

Ambition, 127,128 

Amusements, innocent, 104 

-, criminal, 130, 131 

Angol<?, separ-cting righteous and wicked, .... 211 

, rebel, 234 

Antiquary, 169 

A.'iostasy, 21 

Apostrophe to Earth, 124 

Trees and Flowers, 152 

Ocean, 158 

Death, 161 

Bigotry, 171 

Religion, 191 

Assembly for Judgment, 166 

Atone. nent, 23 

Author, supposed allusion to, . 65 

Babylon, fall of mystical, 117 

Bard of Earth, 13 

Battle, field of, ... 219 

in Hamonah's vale, 117 

Beggar, 85 

Bible, its divinity and doctrines, 26 — 29 

, reception of, by men, 29, 30 

Bigotry, i71 

Book of God's Remembrance, . 233 

Books of Time, 79 

Bow, appearing at Judgment, . .... 222 
Byron, description of, . 68 



xxviii INDEX. 

Caravan, 155 

Causes of Irreligion 36 

Certainty, affecting joy and grief at Judgment, . . 208 " 

Character of man, 27 

Ciiarity, praises of, . . . . .... 201 

Clirist, his Incarnation and Death 22, 23 

, appearing as J jdgo. . . , » • ... 233 

Christian, his contest, '. 75, 76 

Counsellor, the faithful, . . . .... 200 

Creation of earth, 19 

man, 20 

Critics, 187 

Daughters of Beauty, 125 

Dead raised, 147—150 

Death, apostrophe to, 161 

, phantoms in den of, 163 

, angel of, 154 

, the Second, 11 ; 235 

Disappointment, 64 

Distribution of worldly goods, 83 

intellect, 86 

Dreams, 108 

Duellist, 180 

Duty, source of happiness, 96 

Earth, signs presaging destruction of, 132 

, burnt at Judgment, 237 

, renewed, 238 

Eden, 20 ; 121 

Envy, 186 

, subject of, in Hell, 187 

Epicure, 174 

Eternity, science of, 37 

Fair one, vain, 54 

, ruined, . .178 

Faith, character and effects of, 188, 189 

Falsehood, man of, 180 

Fame, 51—55 

, votary of, at Resurrection, 168 

Fancy, active in sleep, 108 

Fashion, woman of, 175 

Fear, marrying Pleasure, 47 

Fisherman, 160 

Friendship, ..... lOI 



INDEX. XXIX 

Pa«e. 

Gabriel, leading the angels, 212 

God, no Respecter of persons, 209 

, addressing the worlds at Judgment, 228 

Gog, with enemies of saints, 155 

Gold, pursuit of, . 47 

Grief, 109 

Hamonah, vale of, . 155 

Happiness, desire of, . 42 

sought in trifles, 55 

, how only found, 43; 96 

, feelings of the finder, 46 

Harlot, 50 

Heart, tlie Christian, 75 

Heaven, pursuits in, 136 — 142 

, hymn of praise in, 139 

, poets in, 206 

Hell descri'ied 9 

, occupants of, 213, 214 ; 234 

, duration of, 236 

Hermit, 150 

Hills of Scotia, 106 

Honor, false, 180 

Hypocrite, ; . . 181 

Idolatry, 31 

Inquisition, 172 

Intellect, how distributed, 86 

, pleasure in exercising, .... ... 103 

Invocation, 5 

Isaiah, 139 

Joys of Time, 94 

, Christian's, 113 

in Heaven, 139 

Jubilee of Earth, 122 

Judge, dishonest, 179 

Judgment, Day of, 224 

' , other worlds summoned to, 227 

Justice, Sword of, 232 ; 235 

I King, virtuous, 199 

, wicked, 32 

I Kingdom, mediatorial, resigned, 240 

I Knowledge in Eternity, 139 ; 209 



XXX INDEX. 

Page. 

Lake of fire, 11 

Liberty, love of, 71 

, true, 74 

Living changed, 147 

Lord, a rich noble, 84 

Love divine, to man, 23 

, maternul, . i 97 

, youthful, 99 

Lunatic, 177 

Man of tithes, 167 

fame, 168 

fashion, 175 

benevolence, 201 

Maniac, 220 

Meeting of lovers, 99 

Memory, joys of, 107 

Merchant, ]60 

Mercy, angel of, 229 

of God, how treated Ly men, 229 

Michael summoning worlds to tlio Judgment, . . . 227 

Millennium, state of world in, 117 — 129 

, state of world after, 126—132 

Minister, ungodly, 184, 185 

, faitnfui, 194—197 

Mirror of Truth, 41 

Miser, 48 

Missionaries, 156 

Mora of Life, 97 

Mother, the dying, Ill 

Mummy, 150 

Musing, solitary, 102 

Mysteries in religion, 82 

Nature, appearance of, at Resurrection, 146 

, at the Judgment, 234 

, lessons taught by, 58 

Navigator, in polar seas, 155 

New arrived, (the Spirit) 7 ; 8 ; 15 ; 21 •, 24 ; 1'12 ; 187 
Novels, 80 

Ocean, apostr. phe to, ^^^ 

Offer of life, free, 24 ; 231 

Omens of earth's dissolution, '32 

, effects on men, ... , , . . 13J 



INDEX. XXXI 

Omens in heaven 134 

One, the Holy, 23 

, the Three in, 82 

(.Xrator, frothy, 127 

Persecution, 171 

Piety, increasing happiness, 112 

, apostrophe to, 191 

Poet, at the Resurrection, 203 

, the True, , 205 

Philosophy searching for happiness, 42 

Paradise, plains of, 7 

Pleasure, iier forms and haunts, ...... 48 — 51 

Prayer of the Author, 223 

Pride, 38 

Piiest, ungodly, 34 

J J at the Resurrection, 184 

Pi ison-house in Millennium, 119 

Pi ophecy fulfilled, 116 ; 210 

Quotation from Thomson, 51 

Cowper, 74 

Milton, 125; 204 

Shakspeare, 151 

Reasoner, the famous, 169 

Recluse, 170 

Redeeming Love, praised by the Bard, ... 22 ; 78 

, by the New-arrived, . . 23 

Redemption, how effected, 23 

, actual extent, 24 

Remorse, 64 

Reputation, value of, 182 

Rest, 108 

Resurrection, morn of, 143 

Righteous, the reward of, 238 

Roman Legions, . 154 

Rulers, wicked, 32 

, righteous, 200 

Rumor, 183 

Rustic, the ignorant, 53 ; 86 

Satan, character, &c., 214 

Scene of Poem laid, 6 

Scenery, F-arth's, . . 104 



XXXn INDEX. 

Page 

Scenery of Britain, 106 

the Author's native place, 106 

Sceptic, ■ ... 56; 174 

Scholar, the dull, 128 

Seduction, victim of, 178 

Sennacherib, 154 

Separations at the day of Judgment, 212 

Sights, pitiful, 219 

Sin, 31 

Slander, 183 

Slave equal to master, in what sense, 210 

Sloth, 127 

Solitude, walk in, 102 

, music in, 143 

Sorrow, 178 

Subject of Poem staled, 5 

Suicide, 180 

Theatre, 131 

Theologian, the bigoted, 171 

Throne, white, 233 

Tempest, 219 

Time of the Poem, 6 

, end of, 146 

Trinity, 82 

Tree of Holiness, 43 

Trump of God, 147 

Unbelief, 188 

Virtue, character of, 15 

, image of, in Hell, 16 ; 187 

Walk, lonely, pleasure of, 102 

Wall of Hell, 9 ; 236 

Wicked, tlicir sentence, 234 

Widow, wasted with grief, 109 

Wife, the good, 177 

Wisdom, her warnings, 58 

, how regarded, 59 

defined by God and the world, 62 

Worm, undying, ... 10 ; 235 

Youth early cut off, .208 

Zion, regard to, in Millennium IIS, bW 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK I. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK I. 

Invocation is made to the Eternal Spirit of Truth, and the 
subject of the Poem is stated. 

Long after Time hiid ceasc-d, and Eternity had rolietl on 
its ages, two youthful sons of Paradise walk on the 
hills of immortality, enjoying holy converse, A strange* 
spirit from another world arrives, and is welcomed by 
Iheni to the abodes of bliss. Tiio stranger desires them 
to explain the wonderful things he had noticed in his 
flight from his native world to heaven. Having sailed 
through empty, nameless regions, wliere utter nothing 
dwelt, he suddenly came to a mountainous wall of fiery 
adamant, on which were horrid figures, traced in fire, 
imitating life. He entered within, and saw a wide lake 
of burniog fire, and saw most miserable beings walking 
in the flames, burning conlinually, yet unconsumed 
Filled with horror, he hastened from the dismal prison 
to the world of light, and now dosired to understand this 
wondrous wretchedness. The Two, unable to explain it, 
and having their curiosity awakened, propose to visit an 
"ancient Bard of Earth," who often had sung on this 
subject to the admiring youth of heaven. 

riiey find the Bard alone, in holy musing, and state to him 
their rlesire. He informs them that the prison described 
is Hell, and promises more fully to meet their curiosity 
hv relating to them the History '>/ Man, 



THI 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK I. 



Eternal Spirit ! God of truth ! to whom 
All things seem iis they are ; Thou, \\lio of old 
The jMophet's eye un.scided, th;U nightly saw, 
Wiiiie heavy sleej) fell dmvn on other men. 
In holy vision tra)iceil, the future pjtss 
Before him, and to Judah's harp attuned 
Bunlens which made the pagan mountains shake. 
And Zion's cedars bow, — inspire my song ; 
JMy eye unscale ; me what is substance teach, 
And shadow what, while I of things to come. 
As past, rehearsing, sing the Course of Time, 
The second birth, and final doom of man. 

The muse, that soft and sickly wooes the ear 
Of love, or chanting loud in windy rhyme 
Of fabled hero, raves through gaudy tale 
Not overfraught with sense, I ask not : such 
A strain befits not argument so high. 
Me thought, and phrase severely sifting out 
The wliole idea, grant, uttering as 'tis 
The essential trudi — time gone, the righteous saved. 
The wicked damned, and providence approved. 

Hold my right hand. Almighty ! and me teach 
To strike the lyre, hut seldom struck, to notea 
Harmonious with tlie morning stars, and pure 
As those by sainted bards and angels stuig. 



THE COURSE OF TIME. 



Which wake the echoes ot eternity — 

That fools may hear and tremble, and the wise 

Instructed listen, of ages yet to come. <I^ 

Long was the day, so long expected, past 
Of the eternal doom, that gave to each 
Of all the human race his due reward. 
The sun— earth'? sun, and moon, and stars, had ceased 
To number seasons, days, and months, and years 
To mortal man : hope was forgotten, and fear ; 
And Time, with al! its chance and change, and smiles, 
And frequent tears, and deeds of villany, 
Or righteousness — once talked of much, as things 
Of great renown, was now but ill remembered ; 
In dim and shadowy vision of the past. 
Seen far remote, as country, which has left 
The traveller's speedy step, retiring back 
From morn till even ; and laug, eternity 
Had rolled his mighty years, and with his years 
Men had grown old : the saints, all home returned 
From prilgrimage, and war, and weeping^, long 
Had rested in the bowers of peace, that skirt 
The stream of life ; and long, alas, how long 
To tliem it seemed, the wicked who refused 
To be redeemed, had wandered in the dark 
Of hell's despair, and drunk the Durning cup 
Their sins had filled with everlasting wo. 

Thus far the years had rolled, which none but God 
Doth number, when two sons, two youthful sons 
Of Paradise, in conversation sweet, 
(For thus the heavenly muse instructs me, wooed 
At midnight hour with offering sincere 
Of all the heart, poured out in holy prayer,) 
High on the hills of immortality, 
Whence goodliest prospect looks beyond the walls 
Of heaven, walked, casting oft their eye far thro' 
The pure serene, observant, if returned 
From errand duly finished, any came. 
Or any, first in virtue now complete. 
From othex" worlds arrived, coufirmed in good. 



1 



Thus viewing, one tliey saw, on hasty wing 
Directing towards heaven his course ; and now. 
His riiglu ascending near the battlements 
And lutty hills on which they walked, approaclied. 
For round and round, in spacious circuit wide. 
Mountains of tallest stature circumscribe 
The plains of Paradise, whose tops, arrayed 
In uncreated radiance, seem so pure. 
That naught but angel s foot, or saint's elect 
Of God, may venture there to walk ; here oft 
Tlie sons of i^liss take morn or evening pastime. 
Delighted to behold ten diousand worlds 
Around their suns revolving in the vast 
External space, or listen the harmonies 
That each to other in its motion sings. 
And hence, in middle heaven remote, is seen 
The mount of God in awful glory bright. 
Within, no orb create of moon, or star. 
Or sun gives light ; for God's own countenance 
Beaming eternally, gives light to all ; 
But farther than these sacred hills his will 
I'orbids its flow — too bright for eyes beyond. 
This is the last ascent of Virtue ; here 
All trial ends, and hope; here perfect joy, 
With perfect righteousness, which to these heights 
Alone can rise, begins, above all fall. — 

And now on wing of holv ardor strong, 
Hither ascends the stranger, borne upright ; 
For stranger he did seem, with curious eye 
Of nice inspection round surveying all. 
And at the feet alights of those diat stood 
His coming, who t\\e hand of welcome gave. 
And the etnbrace sincere of holy love ; 
And thus, with comely greetuig kind, began. 

Hail, brother ! hail, tliou son o( Happiness ! 
Thou son beloved of God ! welcome to heaven ! 
To bliss that never fades ! thy day is past 
Of tiial, and of fear to fall. Well done. 



O THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Thou good and faithful servant, enter now 

Into the joy eternal of thy Lord. 

Come with us, and behold far higher sight 

Than e'er thy heart desu-ed, or hope conceived. 

See, yonder is the glorious hill of God, 

'Bove angel's gaze in brightness rising high. 

Come, join our wing, and we will guide thy flight 

To mysteries of everlasting bliss ; — 

The tfee, and fount of life, the eternal throne. 

And presence-chamber of the King of kings. 

But what Concern hangs on thy countenance, 

Unwont within this place ? pei haps thou deena'st 

Thyself unworthy to be brought before 

The always Ancient One 1 so are we too 

Unworthy ; but our God is all in f.ll, 

And gives us boldness to approach his throne. 

S:^ns of the highest ! citizens of heaven ! 
Began the new arrived, right have ye judged * 
Unworthy, most unworthy is your servant, 
To stand in presence of the King, or hold 
Most distant and most humble place in this 
Abode of excellent glory uurevealed. 
But God Almighty be forever praised. 
Who, Oi his fulness, fills me with all grace 
And ornament, to make me in his sight 
Well pleasing, and accepted in his court. 
But if yirir leisure waits, short narrative 
Will tell, why strange concern thus overhangs 
My face, ill seeming here ; and haply too, 
Your elder knowledge can instruct my youth, 
Of what seems dark and doubtful unexplained. 

Our leisure waits thee ; speak — and what we can. 
Delighted most to give delight, we will ; 
Though much of mystery yet to us remains. 

Virtue — T need not tell, when proved, and foil 
Matured — inclines us up to God, and heaven. 
By law of sweet compulsion strong, and sure • 



As gravitation to the larger orb 

The less attracts, thro' matter's whole domain 

Virtue in me was ripe — I speak not this 

in boast, for what I am to God I owe, 

Entirely owe, an! of myself am naught. 

Equipped, anJ bent for heaven, I left yon world. 

My native seat, which scarce your eye can reach. 

Rolling around her central sun, far out, 

On utmost verge of light : but first to see 

What lay beyond the visible creation 

Strong curiosity my flight impelled. 

Long was my way and strange. I passed the bounds 

Which God doth set to li^ht and life and love ; 

Where darkness meets with day, where order meets 

Disorder dreadful, waste and wild ; and down 

The dark, eternal, uncreated night 

Ventured alone. Long, long on rapid wing, 

I sailed througli empty, nameless regions vast. 

Where utter Nothing dwells, unformed and void 

There neither eye, nor ear, nor any sense 

Of being most acute, finds object; there 

For aught external still you search in vain. 

Try touch, or sight, or smell : try what you will. 

You strangely fin i naught but yourself alone. 

But why should I in words attempt to tell 

What that is like which is — and yet — is notl 

This past, my path descending still me led 

O'er unclaimed continents of desert gloom 

Immense, where gravitation shifting turns 

The other way ; and to some dread, unknown. 

Infernal centre downward weighs : and now, 

Fai travelled from the edge of darkness, far 

As from that glorious mount of God to light's 

Remotest limb — dire sights I saw, dire sounds 

I heard ; and suddenly before my eye 

A wall of fiery adamant sprung up — 

Wall raoMntainous, tremendous, flaming high 

Above all flight of hope. I paused, and looked ; 

And saw, where'er I looked upon that mound, 

Sad figures traced in fiire — not motionless— 



10 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

But imitating life. One I remarked 

Attentively ; but how shall 1 describe 

What naught resembles else my eye hath seen 1 

Of \vorm or serpent kind it something looked. 

But monstrous, with a thousand snaky heads. 

Eyed each with double orbs of glaring wrath j 

And with as many tails, that twisted out 

In horrid revolution, tipped with stings ; 

And all its mouths, that wide and darkly gaped. 

And breathed most poisonous breath, had each a Bting, 

Forked, and long, und venomous, and sharp ; 

And in its writhings infinite, it grasped 

Malignantly what seemed a heart, swollen, black, 

An() quivering with torture most intense ; 

And still the heart, with anguish throbbing high, 

Made effort to escape, but could not ; for 

Howe'er it turned, and oft it vuiiily turned. 

These comphcated foldings held it fast. 

And still the monstrous beast with sting of head 

Or'tail transpierced it, bleeding evermore. 

Wliat this could image, much 1 searched to know. 

And while I stood, and gazed, and wondered long, 

A voice, from whence I knew not, for no one 

I saw, distinctly whispered in my ear 

These words — This is tlie Worm that never dies. 

Fast by the side of this unsightly thing 
Another was portrayed, more hideous still ; 
Who sees it once shall wish to see't no more. 
For ever undescribed let it remain ! 
Only tins much I may or can unfold — 
Far out it Uu-ust a dart that might have rnade 
The knees of terror quake, and on it hung, 
Within the triple barbs, a being pierced 
Thro' soul and body both : of heavenly make 
Original the being seemed, but fallen,' 
And worn and wasted with enormous wo. 
And still around the everlasting lance 
It writhed convulsed, and uttered mimic groans ; 
And tried and wished, and ever tried and wished 



BOOK 1. 11 

To die ; but could not die — Oil, Ijornd sight ! 

I treiiibli»>g ga/.ed, and lisieno.l> luvl lieard Uiis voic« 

Approacli luy ear — This is Eternal Deaiii. 

Tior these alone — upon that htirning wall. 
In honil)Ie eiiiMa/.oniy, were linnied 
All shapes, all forms, all modes of wretchedness. 
And agon} , and grief, and desperate wo. 
And prominent in characters of rtie. 
Where'er the eye could light, these words you read, 
" Who comes this way — behold, and fear to sin !'* 
« .mazed I stood ; and thought such imagery 
Foretokened, within, a dangerous abode. 
But yet to see the worst a wish arose : 
For virtue, by the holy seal of God 
Accredited and stamped, immortal all. 
And all invulnerable, fears no hurt. 
As easy as my wish, as rapidly 
I thro' the horrid rampart passed, unscathed 
And unopposed ; and, poised on steady wing, 
I hovering gazed. Fiternal Justice ! Sons 
Of God ! tell me, if ye can tell, what then 
T saw, what then I heard — Wide was the place. 
And deep as wide, and ruinous as deep. 
Beneath I saw a lake of burning fiie. 
With tempest tost perpetually, and still 
The waves of fiery darkness, 'gainst the rocks 
Of dark damnation broke, and music made 
Of melancholy sort ; and over head. 
And all around, wind warred with wind, storm howled 
To storm, and lightning, forked lightning, crossed. 
And thunder answered thurrier, muttering sounds 
Of sullen wrath ; and far as sight could pierce. 
Or down descend in caves of hopeless depth, 
Thro' all that dungeon of unfading fire, 
I saw most miserable beings walk. 
Burning contmually, yet unconsumed ; 
For ever wasting, yet enduring still ; 
Dying perpetually, yet never dead. 
Some wandered lonely in tlie desert flames. 



12 THE COURSE OF TIME. 



1 



AtkI some in fell encounter fiercely met. 

With curses loud,and blasphemies, that made 

The cheek of daikuess pale ; an J as they fought, 

An 1 curse 1, anl <rn;ished their teeth, an J wished to die 

Their hollow eyes did utter streams of vvn. 

An 1 there were grua.is that ended not, and sigis 

That always sighed, an i tears that ever wept. 

And ever fell, but not in Mercy's sight. 

An 1 Sorrow, and Re|)entcmce', an! Despair, 

Among diem walked, nnJ to their thirsty hps 

Presented frequent cups of burning gall. 

AnJ as I listened, I heard these beings curse 

Almighty God, and curse the Lamb, and curse 

The Earth, the Resurrection morn, and seek, 

An 1 ever vaiidy seek, for utter death- 

And to their everlasting anguish still 

The thunJers from above responding spoke 

These words, which thro' tlie caverns of perdition 

Forlornly echoing, fell on every ear — 

" Ve knew your duty, but ye did it not." 

And back again recoiled a deeper groan. 

A deeper groan ! Oh, what a groan was that ! 

I waited not, but swift on speediest wing, 

V'ith unaccustomed thoughts conversing, back 

Retraced my venturous path from dark to light ; 

Then up ascenJing, long ascen.iin^ up, 

I hasted on ; tho' wliiles the ciiiming spheres. 

By God's own finger touched to harmony, 

HelJ me delaying — till I here arrived. 

Drawn upward by the eternal love of God, 

Of wonder full and strange astonishment, 

At what in yon ler den of darkness dwells, 

Which now your higher knowledge will unfold. 

They answering said ; to ask and to bestow 
Knowledge, is much of Heaven's delight ; and now 
Most joyfully what thou requir'st we would ; 
For much of n^w and unaccountable, 
Thou bring'st ; something inJeed we heard before. 
In paasiiig conversation shghtly touched. 



BOOK I. 13 

Of such a place ; yet rather to be taught. 

Than teaching, answer what thy marvel asks. 

We need ; for we ourselves, tho' here, are but 

Of yestei day — creation's younger sons. 

But there is one, an ancient bard of Earth, 

Who, by the stream of Hfe sitting in bliss, 

Has oft beheld die eternal years complete 

The n.ighiy circle round the throne of God ; 

Great in all learning, in all wisdom great, 

An i great in song ; whose harp in lofty strain 

Tells fre(|uently of what thy wonder craves. 

While round him gathering stand the youth of Heavea 

With truth and melody delighteil bodi ; 

To him this path directs, an easy path. 

And easy tlight will bring us to his seat. 

So saying, they linked hand in hand, spread out 
Theif goKlen wings, by living breezes fanned. 
An 1 over heaven's broad champaign sailed f rirene 
O'er hill ami valley, clothed with verdure green 
That never fades ; and tiee, and !)erb, and flower 
Th;it never fades ; and many a river, rich 
With nectar, winding pleasantly, they passed ; 
And mansion o" celestial nifiuld, and work 
Divine. And oft delicious ujusic, sung 
By saint and angel bands that walked the vales, 
Or mountain tops, and harped up(>n their harps. 
Their ear inclined, and held by sweet constraint 
riieir wing ; not long, for strong desire awaked 
Of knowledge that to holy use might turn. 
Still pressed them on to leave what rather seemed 
Pleasure, due only, when all duty's done. 

And now beneath them lay the wished for spot, 
The sacred bower of that renowned bard ; 
That ancient bard, ancient in days and song; 
But in immortal vigor young, and young 
In rosy health — to pensive solitude 
Retiring oft, as was his wont on earth. 



14 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Fit was the place, most fit for holy musing. 
Upon a little mount, that gently rose, 
He sat, clothed in white robes ; and o'er his head 
A laurel tree, of lustiest, eldest growth, 
Stately and tall, and shadowing far and wide — 
Not finitless, as on earth, but bloomed, and rich 
With frequent clusters, ripe to heavenly taste — 
Spread its eternal boughs, and in its arms 
A myrtle of unfading leaf embraced ; 
The rose and lily, fresh with fragrant dew. 
And every flower of fairest cheek, around 
Him smiling flocked ; beneath his feet, fast by. 
And round his sacred hill, a streamlet walked. 
Warbling the holy melodies of heaven ; 
The hollowed zephyrs brought him incense sweet : 
And out before him opened, in prospect long, 
The river of life, in many a winding maze 
Descending from the lofty throne of God, 
That with excessive glory closed the scene. 

Of Adam's race he was, and lonely sat. 
By chance that day, in meditation deep 
Reflecting much of Time, and Earth, and Man : 
And now to pensive, now to cheerful notes, 
He touched a harp of wondrous melody ; 
A golden harp it was, a precious gift. 
Which, at the day of judgment, with the crown 
Of life, he had received from God's own hand 
Reward due to his service done on earth. 

He sees their coming, and with greeting kind, 
Anr welcome, not of hollow forged smiles. 
And ceremonious compliment ot phrase, 
But of the heart sincere, into his bower 
Invites. Like greeting they returned ; not bent 
In low obeisancy, from creature most 
Unfit t<» creature ; but with manly form 
Upright, they entered in ; though high his rank. 
His wisdom high, and mighty lus renown. 



la 



And thus deferring all apology. 

The two their new companion introduced. 

Anoient in knowledge ! — bard of Adam's race ! 
We br'og t\\es one of us, inquiring what 
We need to learn, and with him wish to learn— 
His asking will direct thy answer beat. 

Most ancient bard ! began the new arrived. 
Few words will set my wonder forth, and guide 
Thy wisdom's light to what in me is dark. 

Equipped for heaven, I left my native place ; 
But first beyond the realms of light 1 bent 
My course ; and there, in utter darkness, far 
Remote, I l)eings saw forlorn in wo. 
Burning continually, yet unconsumed. 
An! there were groans that ended not, and sighs 
That alwaj's sighed, and tears that ever wept 
And ever fell, but not in Mercy's sight ; 
And still 1 heard these wretched beings curse 
Almighty God, and curse the Lamb, and curse 
The Earth, the Resurrection morn, and seek. 
And ever vainly seek for utter death : 
And from above the thunders answered still, 
" Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not." 
And every where throughout that horrid den, 
I saw a form of Excellence, a form 
Of l)eauty without spot, that nought could see 
And not admire — ^admire, and not adore. 
And from its own essential beams it gave 
Liglit to itself, that made the gloom more dark ; 
And every eye in tliat infernal pit 
Beheld it still ; and from its face, how fair ! 
O how exceeding fair ! for ever sought. 
But ever vainly sought, to turn away. 
That image, as I guess, was Virtue, for 
Naught else hath God given countenance so fair. 
But why in such a place it should abide '? 
What place it is 1 Wha* beings there lament 7 



16 THK COURSE OF TIME. 

Whence came tliey 1 and for what their endless groan 1 
Why curse they God '? why seek they utter death 1 
And chief, what means the Resurrection morn 1 
My youth expects thy reverend age to tell. 

Thou rightly deem'st, fair youth, began the bard ; 
The form thou saw'st was Virtue, ever fair. 
Virtue, like God, whose excellent majesty, 
Whose glory virtue is, is omnipresent ; 
No being, once created rational, 
Arcountable, endowed with moral sense, 
With sapience of right and wrong endowed, 
And charged, however fallen, debased, destroyed; 
However lost, forlorn, and miserable ; 
In guilt's dark shrouding wrapt however thick ; 
However drunk, delirious, and mad. 
With sin's full cup; and with whatever damned 
Unnatural diligence it work and toil. 
Can banish virtue from its sight, or once 
Forget diat she is fair. Hides it in night, 
In central niglu ; takes it the lightning's wing, 
Anl Hies for ever on, beyond the bounds 
Of all;drinks it the maddest cup of sin ; 
Dives it beneath the ocean of despair ; 
It dives, it drinks, it flies, it hides in vam. 
For still the eternal beauty, image fair. 
Once stampt upon the soul, before the eye 
All lovely stands, nor will depart; so God 
Ordains — and lovely to the worst she seems, 
And ever seems ; and as they look, and still 
Must ever look upon her loveliness. 
Remembrance dire of what they were, of what 
They might have been, and bitter sense of what 
They are, polluted, ruined, hopeless, lost, 
Witii most repenting torment rend their hearts 
So God ordains — their punishment severe. 
Eternally inflicted by diemselves. 
Tin this — tliis Virtue hovering evermore 
Before tiie vision of the damned, and in 
Upo!> tlieir moQsm-ous mora! nakedneea 



BOOK 1. 17 

Casting unwelcome light, that makes their wo. 
That makes the essence of the endless flame. 
Where this is, there is Hell, darker than aught 
That he, the bard three-visioned, darkest saw. 

The place thou sawst was hellj the groans thou 
heardst 
The wailings of the damned, of those who would 
Not be redeemed, and at the judgment day. 
Long past, for unrepenled sins were damned. 
Tlie seven loud thunders which thou heardst, declare 
The eternal wrath of the Almighty God. 
But whence, or why they came to dwell in wo, 
Why they curse God, what means die glorious morn 
Of resurrection, these a longer tale 
Daman 1, and lead the mournful lyre far back 
Througli memory of sin and mortal man. 
Yet haply not rewardless we shall trace 
Tiie dark disastrous years of finished Time. 
Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy. 
Nor yet shall all be sad ; for God gave peace, 
Much peace, on earth, to all who feared his name. 

But first it needs to say, that other style 
And other language diap thy ear is wont. 
Thou must expect to hear, the dialect 
Of man. For each in heaven a relish holds 
Of former speech, that points to whence he came. 
But whether I of person speak, or place. 
Event or action, moral or divine ; 
Or things unknown compare to things unknown ; 
Allude, imply, suggest, apostrophize; 
Oi touch, when wandering through tlie past, on moods 
Of mind thou never feltt^i ; die meaning still. 
With easy apprehension, thou shalt take. 
So perfect here is knowledge, and the strings 
Of sympathy so tuned, that every word 
That each to other speaks, though never lieard 
Before, at once is fully understood, 
. Aiid evei'y feeling uttered. fijlK %U 



18 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

So shall thou find, as from my various aong. 
That b-ickvvar.l rolls o'er many a tide of years, 
Directly or inferred, thy asking, thou, 
And w()nde:"ing doubt, sliaU learn to answer, while 
I sketch ill brief, tlie liistoiy of Man, 



COURSE OF TI3]:£. 



BOOK II. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK II. 

The "ancient Bard" begins his story. He relates briefli 
the creation of the Earth, and of Man ; the Apostasy j 
and the provision for Man's recovery through the Incar- 
nation and Death of the Son of God. The inquiring 
spirit breaks out in rapturous admiration of Redeeming 
Love, expressing the supposition that the whole race 
of Adam must have availed themselves of its benefits. 
The Bard proceeds, correcting this mistake, and stating 
further the efforts on the part of God to secure the sal- 
vation of men, and the unvvilllngness of multitudes to 
receive mercy. The Bible, proceeding from God himself, 
was sent to them, containing a full exhibition of God*3 
character and law ; of man's character, condition, duty, 
and destiny ; of tho nature and tendency of sin, and of 
the method of final pardon ; but many refused to regard 
this voice from heaven ; many perverted its testimony 
many, after extinguishing the light of revelation, yielded 
to impious idolatry. Some of the influences which ope 
rated to counteract the Bible are rioticed •, particularly, 
the criminal abuse of office and authority, the admiia- 
tion of philosophy and science, the love of pleasure and 
indolence. In conclusion, the " primal cause" and 
" fountain-head" of all the opposition manifested to God 
and to hia revealed word is found in the Pride of the 
human h»&:t. 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK II. 



This said, he waked the golden harp, and tlius, 
Wliile on him inspiration breathed, began. 

As from yon everlasting hills, that gird 
Heaven nojthward, I thy comse espied, I judge 
Thou from the arctic regions came 1 Perhaps 
Thou noticed on thy way a little orb. 
Attended by one moon — her lamp by night ; 
With her fiiir sisterhood of planets seven. 
Revolving round their central sun ; she third 
In place, in magnitude the fourth ; that orb — 
New made, new named, inhabited anew, 
(Tho' whiles we sons of Adam visit still. 
Our native place ; not changed so far but we 
Can trace our ancient walks — the scenery 
Of childhood, youth, and prime, and hoary age — 
But scenery most of suffering and wo,) 
That little orb, in days remote of old. 
When angels yet were young, was made for man, 
And titled Earth — her primal virgin name; 
Created first so lovely, so adorned 
With hill, and dale, and lawn, and winding .-ale* 
WuodlaoQ ajjfi stre-am. and 'ake, and n,ll!ii<; set^. 



■^ THr COURSE OF TIME. 

Green mead, and fruitful tree, and fertile grain. 

And herb and flower : so lovely, so adorned 

With numerous beasts of every kind, with fowl 

Of every wing and every tuneful note ; 

And v/ith all fish that in tlie multitude 

Of waters swam : so lovely, so adorned, 

So fit a dwelling place for man, that as 

She rose complete at the creating word, 

The morning stars — the Sons of God, aloud 

Shouted for joy ; and God, beholding, saw 

The fair design, that from eternity 

His mind conceived, accomplished, and, well pleased^ 

His six days finished work most good pronounced, 

And man declared the sovereign prince of all. 

All else was prone, irrational, and mute. 
And unaccountable, by instinct led : 
But man He made of angel form erect, 
To hold communion with the heavens above. 
And on his soul impressed His image fair. 
His own similitude of hohness. 
Of virtue, truth, and love ; with reason high 
To balance right and wrong, and conscience quick 
To choose or to reject ; with knowledge great, 
Prudence and wisdom, vigilance and strength, 
To guard all frirce or guile ; and last of all. 
The highest gift of God's abundant grace, 
With perfect, free, unbiassed will. — Thus man 
Was made upriglit, innnortal made, and crowned 
The king of all ; to eat, to drink, to do 
Freely and sovereignly his will entire : 
Ey one command alone restrained, to prove, 
4 s was most just, his filial love sincere, 
His loyalty, obedience due, and faith. 
And thus the proliibition ran, expressed. 
Ah God is wont, in terms of plainest truth. 

Of every tree that in the garden grows 
Thou mayest freely eat ; but of the tree 
That knowledge hath of good and ill, eat not. 



BOOK ». 21 

Nor touch ; for in the day thou eatest, thou 
Shalt die. Go, and this one command obey 
Adam, live and be happy, and, with thy Eve, 
Fit consort, multiply and fill die Earth. 

Thus they, the representatives of men, 
Were placed in Eden — choicest spot of earth ; 
With royal honor, and with glory crowned, 
Adam, the Lord of all, majestic walked. 
With go'llike countenance sublime, and form 
Of lofty towering strength ; and by his side 
Eve, fail as morning star, with mo lesty 
Arrayed, with virtue, grace, and perfect love ; 
In holy marriage wed, and eloquent 
Of thought and comely words, to worship God 
And sing his praise — the giver of all good. 
Glad, in each other glad, and glad in hope; 
Rejoicing in their future happy race. 

O lovely,' happy, blest, immortal pair ! 
Plejised with the present, full of glorious hope. 
But short, alas, the song that sings their bliss ! 
Henceforth the history of man grows dark : 
Shade after shade, of deepening gloom descends 
And Innocence laments her robes defiled. 
Who farther sings, must change the pleasant IjTe 
To heavy notes of wo. Why — dost thou ask, 
Surprised 1 The answer will surprise thee more. 
Man sinned — tempted, he ate the guarded tree. 
Tempted of whom thou afterwards shalt hear ; 
Audacious, unbelieving, proud, tmgrateful. 
He ate the interdicted fruit, and fell ; 
And in his fall, his universal race ; 
For they in him by delegation were. 
In him to stand or fall — to hve or die. 

Man most ingrate ! so full of grace to sin — 
Here interposed die new arrived — so full 
Of bliss — to sin against the Gracious One ! 
THe noly, just, and good ! the Eteinal Love ! 



22 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Unseen, unheard, unthoiight of wickedness ! 
Why slumbered vengeance 1 No, it slumbered not. 
The ever just and righteous God would let 
His fury loose, and satisfy his threat. 

That had been just, replied the reverend bard; 
But done, fair youth, thou ne'er hadst met me here. 
I ne'er had seen yon glorious thrc-iie in peace. 

Thy powers are great, originally great} 
And puriiied even at the fount of light. 
Exert them now ; call all their vigor out ; 
Take room ; think vastly ; meditate intensely ; 
Reason profoundly ; send conjecture forth ; 
Let fancy fly ; stocp down ; ascend ; all length. 
All breadth explore ; all moral, all divine ; 
Ask prudence, justice, mercy ask, and might; 
Weigh good with evil, balance right with wrong, 
With virtue vice compare — hatred with love ; 
God's holiness, God's justice, and God's truth. 
Deliberately and cautiously compare 
With sinful, wicked, vile, rebellious man. 
And see if thou can'st punish sin, and let 
Mankind go free. Thou fail'st — be not surprised 
1 bade thee search in vain. Eternal love — 
Harp lift thy voice on high — Eternal love. 
Eternal, sovereign love, and sovereign grace. 
Wisdom, and power, and mercy infinite. 
The Father, Son, and Holy SpiVit, God, 
Devised the wondrous plan — devised, achieved; 
And in achieving made the marvel more. 
Attend, ye heavens ! ye heaven of heavens, attend 
Attend, and wonder ! wonder evermore ! 
When mati had fallen, rebelled, insulted God; 
Was most polluted, yet most madly proud; 
Indebted infinitely, yet most poor; 
Captive to sin, yet unwilling to be bound; 
To God's incensed justice, and hot wrath 
Exposed ; due victim of eternal death 
And utter wo — Harp lift tliy. voice on high ! 



BOOK II. ti 

Ye everlasting hills ! — ye angels bow ! 

Bow ye redeemed of men ! God was made flesh. 

And dwelt with man on earth ! the Son of God, 

Only begotten, and well beloved, between 

Men and his Father's justice interposed ; 

Put human nature on ; His wi-ath sustained; 

And in their name suflFered, obeyed, and died. 

Making his soul an offering for sin ; 

Just for unjust, and innocence for guilt, 

By doing, suffering, dying unconstrained, 

Save by omnipotence of boundless grace. 

Complete atonement made to God appeased j 

Made honorable his insulted law. 

Turning the wrath aside from pardoned man. 

Thus Truth with Mercy met, and Righteousness, 

Stooping from highest heaven, embraced fair Peace, 

That walked tlie eartli in fellowship with Love. 

O I'jve dirine ! O mercy infinite ! 
The audience here in glowing rapture broke — 
O love, all height above, all depth below, 
Surpassing far all knowledge, all desire. 
All thought, the Holy One for sinners dies ! 
The Lord of life for guilty rebels bleeds — 
Quenches eternal fire with blood divine. 
Abundant mercy ! overflowing grace ! 
There whence I came, I something heard of men ; 
Their name had reached us, and report did speak 
Of some abominable horrid thing 
Of desperate offence they had committed ; 
And something too of wondrous grace we heard ; 
And oft of our celestial visitants 
What man, what God had done, inquired ; but they, 
Forbad, our asking never met directly. 
Exhorting still to persevere upright. 
And we should hear in heaven, tho' greatly blest 
Ourselves, new wonders of God's wondrous love. 
This hinting, keener appetite to know 
Awaked ; and as we talked, and much admired 
What new we there should learn, we hasted eacii 



24 THE COURSE OF TIMJ!,, 

To nourish virtue to perfection up, 

That we miglit have our wondering resolved, 

And leave of louder praise to greater deeds 

Of loving kindness due. iVIysterious love ! 

God was made tlesh, and dwelt with men on earth' 

Blood holy, blood divine for sinners shed — 

My asking ends — but makes my wonder more. 

Saviour of men ! hencelorth be thou my theme ! 

Redeeming love, my study day and night. 

Mankind were lost, all lost, and all redeemed ! 

Thou err'st again — but innocently err'st ; 
Not knowing sin's depravity, nor man's 
Sincere and persevering wickedness. 
All were reJeemefl 1 n;)t all — or thou had'st heard 
No human voice in hell. Many refused, 
Altho' beseeched, refused to be redeemed ; 
Redeemed from death to life, from wo to bhss ! 

Can'st thou believe my song when thus I sing 1 
When man had fallen, was ruined, hopeless, lost J 
Ye choral ha. ps ! ye angels that excel 
In strength ! and loudest, ye redeemed of men ! 
To God — to Him that sits upon the throne 
On high, and to the Lamb, sing honor, sing 
Dominion, glory ; blessing sing, and praise : 
When man had fallen, was ruined, hopeless, lost, 
Messiah, Prince of peace. Eternal King, 
Died, that the dead might live, the lost be saved. 
Wonder, O, heavens ! and be astonished, earth ! 
Thou ancient, thou forgotten earth ! Ye worlds admire I 
Admire, and be confounded ! and thou Hell ! 
Deepen thy eternal groan — men would not be 
Redeemed — I speak of many, not of all — 
Would not be saved for lost, have life for death ! 

Mysterious song ! the new arrived exclaimed j 
Mysterious mercy ! most mysterious hate ! 
To disobey was mad, this madder far. 
Incurable insanity of will. 



BOOK II. 25 

What now but wrath could guihy men expect 1 
What more could love, vhat more could mercy do 1 

No more, resumed the baru, no more they could : 
Thouhastseen hell — the wicked there lament; 
An;l why '? for love and mercy twice despised; 
The husbanlinan, who sluggislily forgot 
In spring to plough andscvv, could censure none, 
Tho' winter clamored round his empty barns ; 
But he who having thus neglected, di.r 
Refuse, when Autumn came, and famine tlireatened. 
To reap the golden field that charity 
Bestowed — nay, more obdurate, proud, and blind, 
And stujjid still, refused, tho' much beseeched. 
And long entreated, even with Mercy's tears. 
To odt what to his very lips was held 
Cooked temptingly — he certainly, at least. 
Deserved to die of hunger unbemoaned. 
So did the wicked spurn the grace of God ; 
And so were punished with die second deatli. 
The first, no doubt, punition less severe 
Intended, death belike of all entiie; 
But this incurred, by God discharged, and life 
Freely presented, and again despised, 
Despised, though bought with Mercy's proper blood — 
'Twas this dug hell, and kindled all its boimds 
With wrath and inextinguishable fire. 

Free was the offer, free to all, of life 
And of salvation ; but the proud of heart. 
Because 'twas free, would not accept ; and still 
To merit wished ; and choosing — thus unshipped, 
Uncompassed, unprovisioned, and bestoxnned. 
To swim a sea of breadth immeasurable, 
Tiiey scorned the goodly bark, whose wings tlie breath 
Of God's eternal Spirit filled for heaven. 
That stopped to take them ia — and so were lost. 

What wonders dost thou tell 1 to merit, how 1 
Of creatme meriting in sight of God, 



26 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

As right of sei-vice done, I never heard 
Till now : we never fell ; in virtue stood 
Upright, and persevered in holiness ; 
But stood by grace, by gi ace we persevered ; 
Ourselves, our deeds, our holiest, highest deeds 
Unworthy aught — grace worthy endless praise. 
If we fly swift, obedient to his will. 
He gives us wings to fly ; if we resist 
Temptation, and ne'er fall, it is his shield 
O (impotent that wards it off; if we. 
With love unfjueiichable, before him burn, 
'Tis he that lights and keeps alive the flame. 
Men surely lost their reason in their fall. 
And did not understand the offisr made* 

They might have understood, the bard replied — 
They had the Bible — hast thou ever heard 
Of such a book 1 the author God himself; 
The subject God and man ; si^lvation, life 
And death — eternal- life, eternal death — 
Dread words ! whose meaning has no end, rto bounds—* 
Most wondrous book ! bright candle of the Lord ! 
Star of eternity ! the only star 
By which the bark of man could navigate 
The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss 
Securely ; only star which rose on Time, 
And, on its dark and troubled billows, stilly 
As generation drifting swiftly by 
Succeeded generation, threw a ray 
Of heaven's own light, and to the hills of God, 
The eternal hills, pL-Inted the sinner's eye : 
By prophets, seers, and priests, and sacred barda« 
Evangelists, apostles, men inspired, 
And by the Holy Ghost anointed, set 
Apart am! consecrated to declare 
To earth the counsels of the Eternal One, 
This book — this holiest, this sublimest book, 
Was sent — Heaven's will. Heaven's code of law* 

entire 
To man, this book contained ; defined the bounds 



BOOK II. 2t 

Of vice and virtue, and of life and death ; 

And what was shadow, and what was substance taught. 

Much it revealed ; important all ; the least 

Worth more than what else seemed of highest worth 

But this of plainest, most essential truth — 

That God is one, eternal, holy, just. 

Omnipotent, omniscient, infinite ; 

Most wise, most good, most merciful and true; 

In all perfection most unchangeable : 

That man — that every man of every clime 

And hue, of every age, and evei-y rank. 

Was bad — by nature and by practice bad ; 

In understanding blind, in will perverse. 

In heart corrupt ; in every thought, and word. 

Imagination, passion, and desire, 

Must utterly depraved throughout, and ill. 

In sight of Heaven, tho' less in sight of ma , 

At enmity with God his maker born. 

And by his very life an heir of death : 

That niaii — that every man was fartlier, most 

Unable to rodeem himself, or pay 

One mite of his vast debt to God — nay, more. 

Was most relixtant and averse to be 

Redeemed, an 1 sin's most voluntary slave j 

That Jesus, Son of God, of Miry born 

In Bethlehem, and by Pilate crucified 

On Calv. ly — for man thus fallen and lost, 

Died; and, by deatii, life and salvation bought. 

And perfect righteousness, for all who should 

In his great name believe — that He, the third 

In the eternal Essence, to the prayer 

Sincere should come, should come as soon as asked^ 

Proceeding from the Father and the Son, 

To give f lith and repentance, such as God 

Accepts — to open the intellectual eyes 

Blinded by sin ; to bend the stubborn will. 

Perversely to the side of wrong inclined, 

To GoJ and his commandments, just and good; 

The wild rebelhous passions to subdue. 

And bring them back to harmony with heaven; 



28 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

To purify the conscience, and to lead 

The mind into all truth, and to adorn 

With every holy ornament of grace. 

And sanctify the whole renewed soul. 

Which lienceforth might no more tall totally. 

But persevere, though erring oft, amidst 

The mists of Time, in piety to God, 

And sacred works! of charity to men : 

That he who thjs believed, and practised thus. 

Should have his sins forgiven, howevor vile; 

Should be sustained at mid-day, morn, and even. 

By God's omnipotent, eternal grace : 

And in the evil hour of sore disease, 

Temptation, persecution, war, and death, — 

For temporal death, although unstingf'd, remained, 

Beneat!. the shadow of the Almighty's wings 

Sho'.dd sit unhurt, and at the jiulginent-day. 

Should share the resurrection of the just, 

And reign with Christ in bliss for evermore : 

The)*, all, however named, however great. 

Who would not thus believe, nor practice thus. 

But in their sins impenitent remained. 

Should in perpetual fear and terror live ; 

Should die unpardoned, unredeemed, unsaved j 

And, at the hour of doom, should be cast out 

To utter darkness in the night of hell. 

By mercy and by God abandoned, there 

To reap the harvests of eternal wo. 

This did that book declare in obvious phrase, 
In most sincere and honest words, by God 
Himself selected and arranged, so clear. 
So plain, so perfectly distinct, that none 
Who read with humble wish to understand. 
And asked the Spirit, given to all who asked, 
Could miss their meaning, blazed in heavenly light. 

This book, this holy book, on every line 
Marked with the seal of high divinity. 
On every leaf bedewed witli drops of love 



29 



Divine, and with the eternal heraldry 
And signature of God Almighty stampt 
From first to last — this ray of sacred light. 
This lamp, from off tlie everlasting throne, 
Mercy took down, and in the night of Time 
Stood, casting on the dark her gracious bow J 
And evermore beseeching men, with tears 
And earnest sighs, to read, believe, and live : 
And many to her voice gave ear, and read, 
Beheved, obeyed ; and now, as the Amen, 
True, Faithful Witness swore, widi snowy robes 
And branchy palms surround the fount of hfe. 
And drnik the streams of immortality, 
For ever happy, and for ever young. 

Many believed ; but more the truth of God 
Turned to a he, deceiving and deceived ; — 
Each, witli the accursed sorcery of sin. 
To his own wish and vile propensity 
Transforming still the meaning of tlie text. 

Hear ! while I briefly tell what mortals proved. 
By effort vast of ingenuity. 
Most wondrous, though perverse and damnable ; 
Proved from the Bible, which, as thou hast heard. 
So plainly spoke that all could understand. 
First, and not least in number, argued some. 
From out this book itself, it was a lie, 
A fable framed by crafty men to cheat 
The simple herd, and make them bow the knee 
To kings and priests, — these in their wisdom left 
The light revealed, and turned to fancies wild j 
Maintaining loud, that ruined, helpless man. 
Needed no Saviour. Others proved tliat men 
Might live and die in sin, and yet be saved. 
For so it was decreed ; binding the will. 
By God left free, to unconditional, 
Unreasonable fate. Others believed 
That he who was most criminal, debased, 
Condemned} and dead, unaided might ascend 



80 THE COURSE OF TI3IE. 

The heights of Virtue ; to a perfect law 

Giving a lame, half-way obedience, which 

By useless effort only served to shoAV 

The impotence of him who vainly strove 

With finite arm to measure infinite ; 

Most useless effort ! when to justify 

In sight of God it meant, as proof of faith 

Most acceptable, and worthy of all praise. 

Another held, and from tiie Bible held. 

He was infallible, — most fallen by such 

Pretence. — that none the Scriptures, open to all. 

And most to humble-hearted, ought to read. 

But priests ; that all who ventured to disclaim 

His forged authority, incurred the wrath 

Of Heaven ; and he who, in the blood of stich. 

Though father, mother, daughter, wife, or son. 

Imbrued his hands, did most religious work. 

Well pleasing to the heart of the Most High. 

Others, in outward rite, devotion placed ; 

In meats, in drinks; in robe of certain shape — 

In bodily abasements, bended knees ; 

Days, numbers, places, vestments, woids, and names-- 

Absurdly in their hearts imagining. 

That God, like men, was pleased with outward show 

Another, stranger and more wicked still, 

Witli dark and dolorous laboi- , ill applied. 

With many a gripe of conscience, and with most 

Unhealthy and aboiti.e reasoning. 

That brought his sanity to serious doubt, 

*Mong wise and honest men, maintained that He 

First Wisdom, Great Messiah, Prince of Peace, 

The second of the uncreated Three, 

Was naught but man — of earthly origin ; 

Thus making void the sacrifice Divine, 

And leaving guiky men, God's holy law 

Still unatoned, to work them endless death. 

These are a part ; but to relate thee all 
The monstrous, unbaptized phautasies, 
luaagiaaiioas foai-fully absurii. 



BOOK n. 31 

Hobgoblin rites, and moon-struck reveries. 
Distracted creeds, and visionary dreams, 
More bodiless and iiideously misshapen 
Than ever foncy, at the noon of night. 
Playing at will, framed in the madman's brain, 
That from this book of simple truth were proved. 
Were proved, as foolish men were wont to prove— 
Would bring my word in doubt, and thy belief 
Stagger, though here I sit and sing, within 
The pale of truth, where falsehood never came. 

The rest, who lost the heavenly light revealed. 
Not wishing to retain God in their minds. 
In darkness wan lered on : yet could they not, 
Though moral night around them drew her pall 
Of blackness, rest in utter unbelief. 
The voice within, the voice of God, that nauorht 
Could bribe to sleep, though steeped in sorceries 
Of Hell, and much abused by whisperings 
Of Evil Spirits in the dark, announced 
A day of judgment, and a judge, — a day 
Of misery, or bliss ; — and being ill 
At ease, for gods they chose them stocks and stones. 
Reptiles, and weeds, and beasts, and creeping things 
AnJ Spirits accursed — ten thousand Deities ! 
(Imagined worse than he who craved their peace,) 
An:! bowing, worshipped these as best beseemed. 
With midnight revelry obscene and loud, 
With dark, infernal, devilkh ceremonies. 
And horrid sacrifice of human flesh. 
That made the fair heavens blush. So bad was Sin. 
So lost, so ruined, so depraved was man !— 
Created first in God's own image fair ! 

Oh, cursed, cursed Sin ! traitor to God, 
And miner of man ! mother of Wo, 
And Death, and Hell, — wretched, yet seeking worse i 
Polluted most, yet wallowing in the mire ; 
Most mad, yet drinking Frenzy's giddy cup ; 
Depth ©ver deepofiing,^ darkness darkening still ; 



a2 

THE COURSE OF TIME 

Folly for wisdom, guilt for innocence ; 
Anguish for rapture, and for hope despair ; 
Destroyed destroying ; in tormenting pained j 
Unawed by wrath ; by mercy unreclaimed ; 
Thing most unsightly, most forlorn, most sad- 
Thy time on earth is past, thy war with God 
And holiness : but who, oh who shall tell, 
Thy unrepentable and ruinous thoughts 1 
Thy sighs, thy groans'? Who reckon thy burning tears. 
And damned looks of everlasting grief. 
Where now, with those who took their part with thee. 
Thou sitt'st in Hell, gnawed by the eternal Worm- 
To hurt no more, on all the holy hills 1 

That those, deserting once the lamp of truth, 
Should wander ever on, from worse to worse 
Erroneously, thy wonder needs not ask : 
But that enlightened, reasoinble men. 
Knowing themselves accountable, to whom 
God spoke from heaven, and by his servants warned. 
Both day and night, with earnest, pleading voice. 
Of retribution ecjual to their works, 
Should persevere in evil, and be lost — 
This strangeness, this unpardonable guilt, 
Demands an answei-, which my song unfolds 
In part directly, but hereafter more. 
To satisfy thy wonder, thou sbalt learn, 
Inferring much from what is yet to sing. 

Know then, of men who sat in highest place Jfc 
Exalted, and for sin by others done 
Were chargeable, the king and priest were chief. 
Many were faithful, holy, just, upright. 
Faithful to God and man — reigning renowned 
In righteousness, an 1, to the people, loud 
And fearless, speaking all the words of life. 
These at the judgment-day, as thou shalt hear, 
Abundant harvest reaped ; but many too, 
Alas, now many ! famoivs now in Hell, 
Were wicked, cruel, tyrannous, and vile i 



^RS 



1 



83 



Ambitious of themselves, abandoned, mad ; 
Ami still from servants hasting to be gods. 
Such gods as now they serve in Erebus. 
I pass their lewd example by, that led 
So many wrong, for courtly fashion lost. 
And prove tham guilty of one crime alone. 
Of every wicked ruler, prince supreme. 
Or magistrate below, the one intent, 
Purpose, desire, and struggle day and night. 
Was evermore to wrest the crown from oft 
Messiah's head, and put it on his own ; 
And in His place give spiritual laws to men; 
To binJ religion — free by birth, by God, 
And nature free, and made accountable 
To none but God — behind the wheels of state ; 
To make the holy altar, where the Prince 
Of life incaraate bled to ransom man, 
A footstool to the throne ; for this they met. 
Assembled, counselled, meditated, planned. 
Devised in open and secret ; and for this 
Enacted creeds of wondrous texture, creeds 
The Bible never owned, unsanctioned too, 
And reprobate in heaven; but by the power 
That made, (exerted now in gentler form. 
Monopolizing rights and privileges, 
E(]ual to all, and waving now the sword 
Of persecution fierce, tempered in hell,) 
Forced on the conscience of inferior men : 
The conscience tliat sole monarchy in man. 
Owing allegiance to no earthly prince ; 
Made by the edict of creation free ; 
Made sacred, made above all human laws; 
Holding of heaven alone ; of most divine. 
And indefeasible authority ; 
An individual sovereignty, that none 
Created might, unpunished, bind or touch; 
Unbound, save by the eternal laws of Godf 
And unanaenable to all below . 
E 



84 THE COURSE OF TlMl!.. 

Thus did the itnfircmnrise 1 pot"iitate3 
Of eirtli del)ase reli<,nij<) in the sight 
Of those they rule 1 — wi.i), iDokiiig up, beheld 
The fair celestial gif* 'louise I, enslaved ; 
An I, iniaiirking the f)lly of du; great, 
With prompt docility despised her too. 

The prinne or magistrate, hnwever named 
Or praise I, who knowing hetter, acted di is, 
Was wirked, an I re;;eive I, as he dps:;rve I, 
Damn iti ai. lint the unfaithtid priest, what tongas 
Enungli shall execrate 1 His djctrin^ ni ly 
Be passed, thu' mixed with m )St unh dl )v/ed leaven. 
That prove I to those wh > f)olishly partook. 
Eternal bitterness : — but tiiis was still 
His sin — beneatli wli it claak soever veiled. 
His ever growing an I perpetual sin. 
First, last, an I mi I lie thau^ht, wli n\;e every wish, 
Whtmre every action rose, and en led both — 
To m aunt to place, an 1 pawer of worldly sort; 
To ape the gau ly pomp an 1 e(|uip ige 
Of eaitldy state, and on his mitre 1 brow 
To |)lace a royal crown : f ir this he sol 1 
The sacred truth to him who m )st would give 
Of titles, benefices, hon ars, names ; 
For this betraye 1 his M aster ; an I f )r this 
Made merchandise of the immartal souLs 
Committed to his care — this was his si.5. 

Of all who office hell unfurly, mne 
Could plead excuise ; he bast, and last of all. 
By solemn, awful cerem )ny, he 
VVas set apart to speak thi truth entire. 
By action, and by word ; and round liim stood 
The |)eople, from his li (S expet;tin^ kn)wle Ige ; 
One day in seven, the H >ly Sabbath terme.l. 
They stood ; fir he ha I sworn in f.ice of (lod 
And man, to deal sincerely with their souls; 
To preach die gospel for the gospel's sake; 
Had tfWwVn Uj hate aiid put away all pride. 



BOOK II, 35 

All vanity, all love of eartlily pomp ; 
To s«ek all mercy, meeknesL-i, tnilli, and gi-ace } 
An I nein^ so eii lowed himself, an. I taught. 
In them like works of liulines-s to move; 
Divi lin,r fiithCully the word of life. 
An I oft i 1 lee.l the word of life he tani^ht ; 
But practising, as thou hast he.uNi, who could 
Bolieve ? Thus was religicm woun le 1 sore 
At her own altars, an I ainopg her friends. 
The people went away, and like the priest, 
ruliillin^ what the prt)phet spoke before, 
For h ju jr strove, and wealth, an ! place, as if 
The preacher had rehearsed an idle tale. 
T!ie enaaiies of God rejoiced, an I loud 
The un'oeliever laughed, boasting a life 
Of fairer character than his, who owned. 
For king and guide, the unJefiled One. 

Most guilty, vlllanous, dishonest man ! 
I Wolf in the clotlting of the gentle lamb ! 
' Dark traitor in Messiah's holy camp ! 
I Leper in saintly garb ! — assassin marked 
' In Virtue's robe ! vile hyponite accursed ! 
I I strive in vain to set his evil forth. 

The words that shouKl sulliciently accurse, 

Ani execrate such reprobate, had need 
! Come glowing from the lips of el lest hell. 
! Among the sad lest i:i the den of wo, 
I Thou saw'st him saddest, 'inong the damned, most 
damned. 

I But why should I with indignation btirn. 
Not well beseeming here, and long forgot ? 
Or why one censure for another's sin 1 
Each had his conscience, each his reason, will. 
And understanding, fjr himself to search, 
To choose, reject, believe, consider, act : 
And iiod proclaimed from lieaven, and by an oatb 
Couiirmed, that each should answer for himself; 
And as his own peculiar work should be, 



86 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Done by Wis proper self, slionld live or die. 

But sin, deceitful and deceiving still, 

Had gained tiie heart, and reason led astray. 

A strange belief, that leaned its idiot back 
On folly's topmost twig— belief that (iod, 
Most wise, had made a world, had rreatures madcj 
Beneath his care to govern, and j)rotect, — 
Devoured its thousands. lle;ison, not the true. 
Learned, deep, sober, comprehensive, sound; 
15ut bigoted, one-eyed, short-sighted Reason, 
Most zealous, and sometimes, no douht, sincere — 
Devoured its thousands. Vanity to he 
Renowned for creed eccentrical — devoured 
Its tiiousands : but a la/.y, coipulent, 
And over-credulous faith, that leaned on all 
It met, nor asked if 'twas a reed or oak ; 
Stepped on, but never earnestly iufjuired 
Whether to heaven or hell the journey led — 
Devoured its tens of thousands, and its hunds 
Made reddest in the precious blood of souls. 

In Time's pursuits men ran till out of breath. 
Tlie astronomer soared up, and ccjunted stars. 
And gazed, and gazed upon the Heaven's bright face. 
Till he dropt down dim-eyed into the grave : 
The inunerist in calculations deep 
Grew gray : the merchant at his desk expired : 
The statesman hunted for another place. 
Till death o'ertook him, and made him his prey: 
The miser spent his eldest energy, 
In grasping for another mite : the scri^'e 
Rubbed pensively his old and witheied brow, 
Devising new lUipediinents to hold 
In doubt the suit that threatened to end too soon • 
The priest collected tithes, and pleaded rights 
Of decimation to tlie very last. 
In science, learning, all philosophy, 
Men labored all their days, and labored hard, 
Aad dyings sighed how little they had done : 



37 



But in religion they at once grew wise. 

A creel in print, tho' never iin ierstood ; 

A tlieol )gic system on the shelf, 

Was spiritual hre enougli, and served their turn ; 

But served it ill. They sinned, and never knew; 

For what the Bible said of good and bad, 

Of holiness and sin, they never asked. 

Absurd — pro.ligiously absurd, to think 
That man's minute and feeble faculties. 
Even in tha very childhood of his being, 
Witli mortal sliadows dimmed, and wrapt arounf' 
Could comprehend at once the mighty scheme, 
Where rolled the ocean of eternal love; 
Where wisdom infinite its master stroke 
Displayed ; anl where omnipotence, opprest. 
Did travel in the greatness of its strength ; 
And everlasting justice lifted up 
The sword to smite the guiltless Son of God 
An 1 mercy smiling bade the sinner go ! 
Redemption is the science, and the song 
Of all eternity : archanggis day 
And niglit into its glories look ; the saints. 
The elders round the throne, old in the years 
Of heaven, examine it perpetually; 
And every hour, get cleai-er, ampler views 
Cf ri'^ht and wrong — see virtue's beauty more; 
See vice more utterly deijraved, and vile ; 
And this with a more perfect hatred hate ; 
That daily love with a more perfect love. 

But whether I for man's perdition blame 
Oftice administered amiss ; pursuit 
Of pleasure false ; perverted reason blind ; 
Or indolence that ne'er intjuired ; I blame 
Elfeci and consecjuence ; the branch, the leaf. 
Who finds the (t)imt and bitter root, the first 
And guiltiest cause whence sprung this endless wo. 
Must ''ee|) descend into the human heart. 
And find it there. Dread passion ! making men 
Oa eartli, ami even in lieli, if Mercy yet 



6S THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Would stoop so low, unwilling to he saved, 

If saved by giace of God — Hear, then in brief, 

What peopled hell, what holds its prisoners there. 

Pride, self-adoring pride, was primal cause 
Of all sin past, all pain, all wo to come, 
Unc()nf|uerable pride ! first, eldest sin — 
Great fountain-head of evil — highest source, 
Whence flowed rebellion 'gainst the Omnipotent, 
Whence hate of man to man, and all else ill. 
Pride at the bottcjm of the human heart 
Lay, and gave root and nourishment to all 
That grew above. Great ancestor of vice ! 
Hate, unbelief, and bl.isphemy of God; 
Envy and slander ; malice and revenge ; 
And murder, and deceit, and every birth 
Of damned sort, was progeny of pride. 
It was the ever-moving, acting force, 
The constant aim, and the most thirsty wish 
Of every sinner unrenewcil, to be 
A god : — in piu'ple or in rags, to have 
Himself ad )red : whatever sha|)e or form 
His actions took : whatever phrase he tin-ew 
About his th )Ug!its, or m intlo o'er his life. 
To be the highest, was the inward cause 
Of all — the purpose of the heart to be 
Set up, admirecl, obeyed. But who would bow 
The knee to one who served and was defjendent 1 
Hence man's perpetual struggle, night and day, 
I'o prove he was his own proprietor, 
And independent of his God, thai what 
He haif miglit be esteemed his ov n, and praised 
As sivch — He labored still, and tried to stand 
Alone unpropped — to be obliged to none ; 
And in the madness of his pride he bade 
His God farewell, and turned away to be 
A god himself; resolvino- to rely. 
Whatever came, upon his own right hand 

O desperate frenzy ! madness of the will . 
And di'unkenness of the heart ! tiiat nought couUqucucJb 



BOOK II. 39 

But floods of wo, y)oure(l from the sea of wrath, 

Behind which mercy set. To think to turn 

The back on Hfe ori-^inal, ami hve — 

The creature to set up a rival throne 

In the Creator's r'-ahn — lu deify 

A worm — an;l in the "^ight of God be proud — 

To lift an arni of flesh against the shafts 

Of the Omnipotent, and midst his wralii 

To seek for happiness — insanity 

Most mad ! guilt most complete ! Seest thou those world.- 

That r(dl at various distance round the throne 

Of God, innuaierous, and fill the calm 

Of heaven with sweetest liarniony, when saints 

Anl angels sleep — as one of tliese, from love 

Centripetal withdrawing, and from light. 

And li'-^at, and nourishment cut oft", should rush 

Abandoned o'er the line that runs between 

Create an! increate ; from ruin (hiven 

To ruin still, diro' the abortive waste : 

So pri(.le from God diew off the bad ; and so 

Forsaken of hii:i, he lets them ever try 

'I'heir single arm against tiie second death ; 

Ainid-Jt vindictive thun.Iers lets them try 

The stoutness of their heart ; and lets them try 

To (juench their thirst anndst the unfading fiie; 

And to reap joy where he has sown despair : 

To walk alone unguiiled, unbemoaned. 

Where Evil dwells, an 1 Death, and moral Night 

In utter emptiness to find enough ; 

In utter dark find light ; ami find r-^pose 

Where God with tempest plagues lor evermore : 

For so they wished it, so did pude desire. 

Su( h was the cause that turned so many off 
Rebelliously from God, and led tliem oti 
From vain to vainer s'ill, in endless chx'je. 
And such tlie cr.use that made so many cheeks 
Pale, and so many knees to shake, when men 
Rose d'oin the grave ; as ihou shall hear unoD. 

4 



^ ] 



COURSE OP TIME- 



BOOK IIL 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK III. 

The Bard proceeds to a more full description of the " ways 
of Time," "the fond pursuits and vanHies of men." 
Desire of liapphiess was universal in every age; but 
the star of God shining upon the only path to it was not 
heeded. The Bible taught ttiat happiness was indisso- 
hibly connected with virtue; tliat it was a fruit to be 
gal hen d only from the tree of holiness, uprooted by 
the apostacy, but planted again by tlie Son of God, and 
nourished by the dewy influences of the Spirit. But, 
disregarding this, men pursued happiness in ten thou- 
sand mistaken rentes, grasping at lying shades until 
the grave received them. Many "sweat and bled for 
Gold ;" most for the luxuries it bought, but some with 
the miser's craving avarice. Blinded votaries also 
chased the sliadow Pleasure ; who, with her thousand 
changing forms and varying ro!ies, allured to her thou- 
sand fatal haunts ; to the hall of giddy dance, the scene 
of thoughtless revel, the harlut's treacherous bed. 
Another phantom fleeting in the mist of time was 
Earthly Fume, whose voice of empty breath oft de- 
ceived tiie man of science, and the poet, the reverend 
divine, the simple artisan, the vain fair one, the 
haughty warrior, t le \ roud usin-per. Even tlie Drunk- 
ard's bowl, and the Skeplick's helmless bark, were 
tried in the wild pu;-sui*. of happiness. This was done, 
too, notwithstanding the warning voice of wisdom 
speaking to man loudly in tlie Seasons, the Day, the 
Night, I'he Grave, the Word oi God ; nftW'Mistanding 
all the pangs of Remorse, and all tlie ^sorrows of t)is- 
ap]>ointment. Against these, reckless men closed 
their ears and tlieir hearts, until Death revealed to 
each iiis foll>, and too late convinced him of tlie grand 
lesson of the Bible, "Eternity is all." 

In the dt^s-ii!) lion of Disappointment the Auth.a- is hap- 
pily introduced, and mention made of mterestiug cir- 
cumstances in his history. 



THE 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK III. 



Bkhold'st thou yonder, on the crystal sea. 
Beneath the throne of God, an iinaje fair, 
An;! in its han.l a mirror lar?e an 1 bright I 
'Tis truth, ini;niitable, eternal truth. 
In figure emblematical expressed. 
Before it Virtur? stands, and smiling sees. 
Well pleased, in her refler-te 1 soul, no spot. 
The sons of heaven, andiangel, seraph, saint, 
There daily read their own essential w :rth ; 
And as tliey read, take place among the just ; 
Or hij;h, or low, each as his val'se seeujs. 
There eacdi bis ceitain interest learns, his true 
Capacitj ; an 1 gaing then-:;e, puisnes, 
Unerringly thro' all die tracts of thought. 
As God ordains, best ends by wisest means. 

The Bible hel I this mirror's place on earth : 
But, few would read, or, rearimg, saw tliemselves. 
The chase was after shadows, phauloms strange. 
That in the twilight walked of Time, and mocked 
The eager hunt, escaping evermore ; 
Yet with so many promises and looks 
0<" aiejitJf) sort, tliat he whose annj3 returned 



42 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Empty a thousand times, still stretched them out. 
And grasping, brought them back, again unfilled. 

In rapid outline thou hast heard of man ; 
His death ; his offered liie ; that hfe by most 
Despised ; the Star of God — the Bible, scorned, 
Tiiat else to happiness and heaven had led, 
And saved my lyre from narrative of wo. 
Hear now more largely of the ways of Time J 
The fond pursuits and vanities of men. 

Love God, love truth, love virtue, and be happy :— 
These were the words first uttered in the ear 
Of every being rational made, and made 
For thought, or word, or deed accountable. 
Most men the first forgot, the second none. 
Whatever path they took, by lull or vale. 
By night or day, the universal wish. 
The aim, and sole intent, was happiness : 
But, erring from the heaven-appointed path. 
Strange tracks indeed they took through barren wastes. 
And up the sandy mountain climbing toiled. 
Which pining lay beneath the curse of God, 
And naught produced : yet did the traveller look. 
And point his eye before him greedily. 
As if he saw some verdant spot, where grew 
The heaveniy flower, where sprung the well of life, 
Where undisturbed felicity reposed ; 
Though Wisdom's eye no vestige could discern. 
That happiness had ever passed that way. 

Wisdom was right : for still the terms remained 
Unchanged, unchangeable ; the terms on which 
True peace was given to man ; michanged as God, 
Who, in his own essential nature, binds 
Eternally to virtue happiness ; 
Nor lets* them part through all his Universe. 

Philosophy, as thou shalt hear, when she 
Shall have her praise — ^lier praise und censure too. 



BOOK in. 43 

Did much, refining and e<Hlling man ; 

But could not nurse a single plant that bore 

True happiness. — From age to age she toiled; 

Shed from her eyes the mist that dimmed them still. 

Looked forth on man ; explored the wild and tame. 

The savage and polite, the sea and land, 

And starry heavens ; and then retired far back 

To meditation's silent shady seat ; 

And there sat pale, and thoughtfully, and weighed 

With wary, most exact and scrupulous care, 

Man's nature, passions, hopes, propensities. 

Relations and pursuits, in reason's scale; 

And searched and weighed, and weighed and searched 

again. 
And many a fair and goodly volume wrote, 
That seemed well worded too, wherein were found 
Lncountahle receipts, preteniling each, 
If carefully attended to, to cure 
Mankind of folly ; — to root out the briers 
And thorns, and weeds that choked the growth of 

joy;— 

And showing too, in plain and decent phrase. 
Which sounded much like wisdom's, how to plant. 
To shelter, water, culture, prune, and rear 
The tree of happiness ; and oft their plans 
Were tried ; — but still the finiit was green and sour. 

Of all the trees that in Earth's vineyard grew, 
And with tlieir clusters tempted man to pull 
And e;it, — on^ tree, one tree alone, the true 
Celestial manna bore which filled the soul, 
The tree of Holiness — of heavenly seed, 
A native of the skies ; tho' stunted much, 
And dwarfed, by Time's col I, damp, ung.^nial soi' 
And chiUing winds, yet yielding fruit so pure. 
So nourishing and sweet, as, on his way. 
Refreshed the pilgrim; and begot desire 
Unquenchable to climb the arduous path 
To where her sister plants, in their own clime. 
Around the founi, and by the stream of hfe, 



44 THE COURSE OF Tl.tIE. 

BloommiT beneath the Sun that never seta,-— 
Bear fruit of perfect I'ehsh fully ripe. 

To plant this tree, uprooted hy the fall. 
To earth the Son of Go J descenJe.l, sheJ 
His precious bl )od ; an. I on it evermore, 
Fro;n off his livinsf wings, the Spirit shook 
The dews of heaven, to nurse and hasten its gi'owth 
Nor was this care, this inTnite expense, 
Not needed to secure the h )ly plant. 
To root it out, an I wither it from earth, 
Hell strove with all its stren,nh, and bbvv with all 
Its b1 ists ; an 1 .Sin, with coll consumptive breath, 
Involve 1 it still in clouds of mortal damp. 
Yet did it grow, thus kept, protected thus; 
An 1 bear the only fruit of true delight ; 
The only fiuit worth plucking under heaven. 

But, few, alls ! the h ily plant could see, 
For heavy inists that Sin aroun 1 it threw 
Per|)etuailv ; an! fnv th;^ s irrifice 
VVoul 1 make by wlii-di al;>ne its clusters stooped. 
An 1 came within the reach of m :)rtal man. 
F.»r this, of hiai whj woul I approach and eat, 
Was rig )rously exacte 1 to the full : — 
To trea 1 an 1 bruise beneath the foot, the world 
FiUtire; its priies, ambitions, hopes, desires; 
Its gd i, and all its br.)i leie 1 ojuipage ; 
To lo!)se its loves and friendships from the heart. 
An 1 cast them oif ; to shut tha ear against 
Its praise, and all its flatteries abhor ; 
An I having thus behind him thrown what seemed 
So goorl an 1 fair — then must he lowdy kneel, 
An I with sir.oerity, in which the Eye 
That slumbers not, nor sleeps, could see no lack, 
This prayer pray : — " Lord God ? thy will be done; 
Thy h dy will, howe'er it cross my ow'i." 
Hard labor this for flesh and blood ! too hard 
For most it seemed : so, turning, tliey the tre 
Derided, as mere bramble, that could bear 



BOOK III. 45 

No fniit of special taste ; an J so g«t out 

Upon ten thousanii different route? ro seek 

What tliey ha.l left behinJ ; to seek what they 

Had lost— f.-r still as something once possesf, 

An.l l.ist. true happiness appe.ued all thought 

They onje were happy; and even -vhile they smoked 

And panted in the chase — believed rhemselves 

M(jre miserable to-d.iy than yester-tay — 

To-morrow than to-day. When jwuth complained 

The ancient sinner shook his hoary liead 

As if he meant to say : Stop till y.-u come 

My length, an 1 then you may have cause to sigh 

At twenty, ci ie 1 the boy, who now had seen 

Some blennsh in his j )ys : How hanpily 

Plays yonder chil 1 ihat busks the inian'c babe. 

An I gatheis gentle flowers, an 1 never siglis. 

At fjity in the fervor of pursuit, 

Far on in disappointment's dreary «'ale, 

The grave and sage like man loukej back upon 

The stripling youth of plump unsemed hope, 

Who gallijped gay and briskly up h-^hind — 

An i moaning wished himself eighinen again. 

An I he of threescore years an 1 ter , in whose 

Chilled eye, fatigued with gaping uiter hope, 

Earth's freshest verdure seemed bui blasted leaves, — 

Praised childhood, youth and manhood, and denounced 

Old age alone as barren of all joy. 

Decisive proof that men had left behind 

The happiness they sought, and tak<^n a most 

Erroneous path ; since every step \\^y took 

Was deeper mire. Yet did they or-ward lun — 

Purt-uing Hope that danced before Ihem still. 

And beckoned them to proceed — an i with their hands. 

That shook and trembled piteously 'vith age. 

Grasped at the lying Shade, even I ill the Earth 

Beneatli tiiem broke, and wrapt them in the grave 

Sometimes indeed when wisdom in their ear 
Whispered, and with its disenchantmg wand 
Effectually touched tlie sorcery of tiieir eyes. 



46 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Directly pointing to the luly Tree, 

Where grew the food they sought, they turned, surprised 

That they had missed so long what now they found 

As one upon whose mini some new and rare 

lil^a glances, an I retires as (luick, 

Ere memory have time to write it down ; 

Stung with the loss, into a thoughtful cast, 

He throws his face, and rubs hie vexed brow ; 

Searches each nook an 1 corner of his soul 

With frequent care ; reflects, and re-reflects. 

An! tries to touch relations that may start 

The fugitive again ; and oft is foiled ; 

Till something like a seeming chance, or flight 

Of random fancy, when expected least. 

Calls back the wandered thought — long sought in vam 

Then does uncommon joy fill all his mind ; 

And still he wonders, as he holds it fast. 

What lay so near he could not sooner find : 

So did the man rejoice, when from his eye 

The film of folly fell, and what he day 

An I night, and far and near, had idly searched, 

Sprung up befjre him suddenly displayed ; 

So wondered why he missed the tree so long. 

But, few returned from folly's giddy chase. 
Few heard the voice of wisdom, or obeyed. 
Keen was tlie search, and vari(jus and wide ; 
Without, within, along the flowery vale, 
And up the rugged cliii', and on the top 
Of mountains liigh, and on the ocean wave. 
Keen was the search, and various and wide. 
And ever and anon a shout was heard : 
Ho ! here's the tree of life ; come, eat, and hve ♦ 
And round the new discoverer quick they flocked 
In multitudes, and plucked, and with great haste 
Devoured ; and sometimes in the lips 'twas sweet. 
And promised well ; but in the belly, gall. 
Yet after him that cried again : Ho ! here's 
The tree of life ; again they ran, and pulled, 
A.nd chewed again, axid found it bitter still. 



47 



From disappointment on to disappointment. 
Year :ifter year, age after age pursue>i : 
The chil 1, the youtlv, the hoary headed man. 
Alike pursued, and ne'er grew wise : for it 
Was folly's most peniHar attribute. 
And native act, to make experience void. 

But hastily as pleasures tasted turned 
To loat.iing and disgust, they neel not 
Even such experiment to prove them vain. 
Ip uope or in possession, Fear, alike, 
lioding disaster, stood. Over the flower 
Of fairest sort, tliat hloomed beneat'.i the sun. 
Protected most, and sheltered from the storm, 
The Spectre, like a dark anl thun Icrous cloud. 
Hung dismally, an! threatened, before the hand 
Of hiin that wished, could pull it, to descend. 
An 1 o'er the desert drive its withered leaves ; 
Or being puUe 1, to blast it unenjoyed. 
While yet he gazed upon its loveliness. 
And just begin to drink its fragrance up. 

Gol 1 many hunted, sweat and bled for gold ; 
Waked all the niglu, and laboured all the day ; 
An 1 what w IS this allurement, do&t thou askl 
A dust dug from tlie bowels of the earth, 
Which, being oast into the fire, came out 
A shining thing that fools admired, an 1 called 
A god ; an 1 in devout an 1 humble plight 
Befjre it knscle I, the greater to the less. 
An I on its altar sacrificed ease, peace. 
Truth, faith, integrity ; good conscience, friend 
Love, charity, benevolence, an 1 all 
The sweet and tenler :-ympathies of life ; 
An I to complete the horrid murderous rite. 
And signalize their folly, otFered up 
Their soul.*, and an eternity of b!iss, 
To gain chein — what ! an hour of dreaming joy ; 
A f^'p'ish hour that hasted to be done. 
And enaea ^ ihc bitteniej^s of wo 
I 



48 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Most, for the luxuries it bought, the pomp. 
The praise, the ghtter, fashinn, and renown. 
This yellow phantom follovveJ and adored. 
But there was one in folly farther gone, 
With eye awry, incurable, and wilJ, 
The laughing-stock of devils and of men. 
And by his guardian angel quite given up,— 
The miser, who with dust inaniuiate 
Held wedded intercourse. Ill guided wretch ! 
Thou nughtst have seen him at the midnight hour. 
When good men slept, and in light winged dreams 
Ascended up to God, — in wastetul hall. 
With vigilance and fasting worn to skin 
And bone, and MTapped in most debasing rags, — 
Thou mightst have seen him bending o'er his heaps. 
And holding strange communion with his gold ; 
And as his thievish fancy seemed to hear 
The iiiglit-man's foot approach, starting alarmed. 
And in his old, decrepit, withered hand. 
That palsy shook, grasping the yellow earth 
To make it sure. Of all God made upright, 
And in their nostrils breathed a living soul. 
Most fallen, most prone, mast earthy, most debased j 
Of all that sold Eternity fur Time, 
None bargained on so easy terms with death. 
Illustrious fool ! Nay, most inhuman wretch ! 
He sat among his brigs, and, with a look 
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor 
Away unalmsed, and midst abundance died. 
Sorest of evils ! died of utter want. 

Before this Shadow, in the vales of earth, 
Fools saw another glide, which seemed of more 
Intrinsic worth. Pleasure her name ; good name, 
Though ill applied. A thousand forms she took, 
A thousand garbs she wore ; in every age 
And chme, changing, as in her votaries changed 
Desire ; but, inwardly, the same in all. 
Hr3r most essentia' lineaments we trace ; 
Her general ieatures every wiiere alike* 



BOOK III. 4S 

Of comely form she was, and fair of face ; 
And undf nieath her eyelids sat a kind 
Of witching sorcery, that nearer drew 
Whoever with unguarded look beheld j 
A dress of gaudy hue loosely attired 
Her loveliness ; her air an. f manner frank, 
An.l seeming free of all disguise ; her song 
Enchanting ; and her words which sweetly dropt. 
As honey from the comb, most large of promise, 
Still propliesying days of new delight, 
And rapturous nights of undecaying joy. 
AnJ in her hand, wiiere'er she went, she held 
A radiant Cup that seemed of nectar full — 
And by her side danced fair delusive Hope. 
The fool pursued enamoured, and the wise 
Experienced man who reasoned much, and thought. 
Was sometimes seen laying his wisdom down, 
And vying widi the stripling in the chase. 

Nor wonder thou ! for she was reallv fair ; 
Decked to the very taste of flesh and blood. 
And many thought her sound within ; and gay 
AnJ healthy at the heart : but thouglit amiss : 
For she was fidl of all disease ; her bones 
Were rotten : consumption licked her blood, and drank 
Her marrow up ; her breath smelled mortally : 
And in her bowels plague and fever lurked; 
And in her very heart, and rems and life. 
Corruption's worm gnawed greedily unseen. 

Many her haunts : diou niight'st have seen her now 
With Indolence, lolling on the mid-day couch, 
And whispering drowsy words ; and now at davni, 
IjQudly and rough, joining the sylvan horn ; 
Or sauntering in the park, and to the tale 
Of slander giving ear ; or sitting fierce. 
Rude, blasphemous, malicious, raving, mad. 
Where fortune to the fickle die was bound. 

But chief she loved the scene of deep de' --uch, 
WlierB ^e^'elry, and dance, and fiuntfc «)ng 



.60 TII . COURSE OF TIME, 

Disturbed the sleep of honest men. Anrl where 
The drunkard sat, she entered in, well pleased, 
VVilh eye brimful of wanton mirthfuiaess. 
And urged him still to fill another cup. 

Anrl at tlie shadowy twilight — in the dark 
And gloomy night, I looked, and saw her come 
Abroad, arrayed in harlot's soft attire ; 
Ami walk without in every street, and lie 
In wait at every corner, full of guile. 
And as the unwary youth of simple heart. 
And void of understanding, passed, she caught 
And kissed him, and widi lips of lying said : 
I have peace-offerings with me ; 1 have paid 
My vows this day ; and therefore came I fortll 
To meet thee, and to seek thee diligently. 
To seek thy face, an;l 1 have found thee liere- 
INIy bed is decked with rtibes of tapestry, 
With carved work, and sheets of linen fine ; 
Perfumed wilh aloes, myrrh, and cinnamon. 
Sweet are stolen waters ! pleasant is the bread 
In secret eaten ! the goodman is from home. 
Come, let us take our fill of love till moin 
Awake ; let us delight ourselves with loves. 
Widi much fair speech she caused the youth to 

yield; 
And forced him with the flattering of her tongue. 
I looked, an.l saw him follow to her house, 
As goes the ox to slaughter ; as the fool 
To the correction of the stocks ; or bird 
That hastes into the subtle fowler's snare. 
And knows not, simple thing, 'tis for ils life. 
I saw him enter in ; and heard the door 
Behind them shut ; and in the dark, still night 
When God's unsleeping eye alone can see. 
He went to her adulterous bed. At morn 
I looked, and saw him not among the youths.: 
I heard his father mourn, his mother weep : 
For none returned tliat went with her. The de. 
Were in be** house ; her guests in depllis of liell 



51 



She wove the winding-sheet of souls, and laid 
Them in the urn of everlasting death. 

Such was the Shadow fools pursued on earth 
Under the name of pleasure, — fair outside. 
Within corrupted, and corrupting still : 
Ruined, and ruinous : hvr sure reward, 
Her total recompence was still, as he. 
The bard, recorder of Earth's Seasons, sung, 
*' Vexation, disappointment, and remorse." 
Yet at her door the young and old. and some 
Who held high character among tlie wise. 
Together siuod, — and sti'ove among themselves. 
Who first should enter, and be ruined first. 

Strange competition of immortal souls ! 
To sweat for death ! to strive for miseiy ! 
But think not Pleasure told her end was death. 
Even human folly then had paused at least. 
And given some signs of hesitation ; nor 
Arrived so hot, and out of breath at wo. 
Though contradicted every day by facts. 
That sophistry itself would stumble o'er, 
And to the very teeth a liar jiroved 
Ten thousand times, as if unconscious still 
Of inward blame, she stood, and waved her hand. 
And pointed to her bovver, and said to all 
Who passed : Take yonder flowery path ; my steps 
Attend ; I lead the smoothest way to heaven; 
This world receive as surety for tJie next. 
And many simple men, most simple, tho' 
Renowned for learning much, and wary Fkill, 
BeUeved, and tui-ned asi<le, and were undone. 

Another leaf of finished Time we Vim, 
And read of Fame, terrestial Fame, which died, 
And rose not at the Resurrection morn. 
Not that by virtue earned, the true renown. 
Begun on earth, and lasting in the skies. 
Worthy the lofty wish of seraphim, — 



52 THE COUKSE OF IIMA, 

The approliation of the Eye thai sees 

The end from the beginning, sees from cause 

To most remote effect : of it we read 

In book of God's remembrance, in the book 

Of hfe, from which the quick and dead were judged ; 

riie book that h'es upon the throne, and tells 

Of glorious acts by saints and angels done ; 

The record of the holy, just, and good. 

Of all the phantoms fleeting in the mist 
Of Time, tho' meagre all, and ghostly thin. 
Most unsubstantial, unessential shade, 
Was earthly Fame. She was a voice alone, 
And dwelt upon the noisy tongues of men. 
She never thought ; but gabbled ever on ; 
Applauding most what least deserved applause : 
The motive, the result was naught to her : 
The deed alone, tho' dyed in human gore, 
And steeped in widow's tears, if it stood out 
The prominent display, she talked of much. 
And roared around it with a thousand tongues. 
As changed the wind her organ, so she changed 
Perpetually ; and whom she praised to-day, 
Vexing his ear with acclamations loud. 
To-morrow blamed, and hisced him out of sight. 

Such was her nature, and her "ractice such : 
But, O ! her voice was sweet to mortal ears ; 
And touched so pleasantly the strings of pride 
And vanity, which in the heart of man 
Were ever strung harmonious to her note, 
That many thought, to live without her song 
Was rather death than life : to live unknown, 
Unnoticed, unrenowned ! to die unpruised ! 
Unepitaphed ! to go down to the pit, 
And moulder into dust among vile worms ! 
And leave no whispering of a name on ear«h ! 
Such thought was cold about the heart, and chilled 
The blood. Who could endure it 1. who could clioose* 
Without a struggle, to be svvept away 



53 



From all remembrance '? and have part no more 
With living men '? Philosophy failed here ; 
And self-approving pride. Hence it became 
The aim of most, and main pursuit, to win 
A name — to leave some vestige as they passed. 
That following ages might discern they once 
Had been on earth, and acted something there. 

Many the roads they took, the plans they tried. 
The man of science to the shade retired. 
And laid his head upon his hand, in mood 
Of awful thoughtfulness ; anrl dived, and dived 
Again — deeper and deeper still, to sound 
The cause remote — resolved, before he died. 
To make some grand discovery, by which 
He should be known to all posterity. 

And in the silent vigils of the night. 
When uninspired men reposed, the bard, 
Ghastly of countenance, and from his eye 
Oft streaming wild unearthly fire, sat up ; 
And sent imagination forth ; and searched 
The far and near — heaven, earth, and gloomy hell- 
For fiction new, for thought, unthought before ; 
And when some curious rare idea peered 
Upon his mind, he dipped his hasty pen, 
And by the glimmering lamp, or moonlight beam, 
That thro' his lattice peeped, wrote fondly down 
What seemcvl in truth imperishable song. 

And sometimes too, the reverend divine, 
In meditation deep of holy things. 
And vanities of Time, heard Fame's sweet voice 
Approach his ear — and hang another flower. 
Of earthly sort, about the sacred truth ; 
And ventured whiles to mix tlie bitter text. 
With relish suited to the sinner's taste. 

And oft-times too, the simple hind, who seemed 
Ambitionless, arrayed in humble garb, 



54 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

While round him spreading, fed his harmless flock. 

Sitting was seen, by some wild warbling brook. 

Carving his name upon his favorite staff ; 

Or, in ill-favored letters, tracing it 

Upon the aged thorn ; or on the face 

of some conspi(;uous oft frequented stone. 

With persever ing wondrous industry ; 

And hoping, as he toiled amain, an i saw 

The characters take fjrin, some other wight. 

Long after he was dead, and in the grave, 

Should loiter there at noon and read his name. 

In purple some, and some in rags, stood forth 
For reputation ; some displayed a limb 
Well-fashioned : some of lowlier mind, a cane 
Of curious workmanship, and marvellous twist : 
In strength some sought it, and in beauty more. 
Long, long the fair one labored at the glass. 
And, being tirerl, called in auxiliar skill, 
To have iter sails, bef)re she went abroad. 
Full spread, anrl nicely set, to catch the gale 
Of praise. Antl much she caught, an 1 much deserved. 
When outward loveliness was index fair 
Of purity within : but oft, alas ! 
The bloom was on the skin alone ; and when 
She saw, sad sigiit ! tiie roses on her cheek 
Wither, and heard the voice of fame retire 
And die away, she heaved most |)iteous sighs. 
And wept most lamentable tears ; and whiles. 
In wild delirium, nrade rash attempt, 
Unholy mimickry of Nature's work ! 
To re-create, with frail and mortal things, 
Her wither'd face. Attempt how (ond and vain ! 
Her frame itself, soon mouldered down to dust ; 
Aiul in the land of deep forgetful ness. 
Her beauty and her name were laid beside 
Eternal sifence, and the loathsome worm ; 
Into whose darkness flattery ventured not ; 
Where none had ears to hear tlie voice of Fame. 



BOOK I IT. 55 

Many the roads they took, the ]A;ms they tried. 
And awful oft the wickedness they wrought. 
To be observed, some sci ambled up to thrones. 
And sat in vestures dripping wet with gore. 
The warrior dipped his sword in blood, and wrote 
His name on lands and cries desolate. 
The rich bought fields, and houses bnilt, and raised 
The monumental- piles up to the clouds. 
An 1 called them by their names. And, strange to tell ! 
Rather than be unknown, and pfss away 
Obscurely to the grave, some, sn-all of soul. 
That else had perished unobserved, acquired 
Consiler-ible renown by oaths profjuie. 
By jesting boldly with all sacred diings, 
And uttering fearlessly whate'er occurred ; — 
Wild, blasphemous, perditionable thoughts, 
That Satan in them moved; l)y vviser men 
Suppressed, and quickly banished from the mind. 

Many the roads they took, the plans they tried : 
But allin vain. Who grasped at earthly fame, 
Grasped wind : nay worse, a serpenr grasped, that thro* 
His hands slid smoothly, and was gone ; but left 
A sting behind which wrought him en Hess pain : 
For oft her voice wiis old Abaddon's lure, 
By which he charmed the foolish soul to death. 

So happiness was sought in pleasure, gold, 
Renown — by many sought. But -should 1 sing 
Of all the trifling race, my time, thv faith. 
Would fail — of things erectly organized. 
And having rational, articulate voice. 
And (daiming outward brotherhood with man, — 
Of him that labored sorely, in his sweat 
Sn.oking afar, then hurried to the wine. 
Deliberately resolving to be mad : 
Of him who taught the ravenous bird to fly 
This way or that, thereby supremely blest : 
Or rode in fury with the howling ])ack, 
AiTronting mucli the noble animal. 



THE COURSE OF TIME. 



II 



He spurred into such company : of him 
Who down into the bowels of the earth 
Descended deeply, to bring up the wreck 
Of some old earthen ware, which having stowed. 
With every proper care, he home returned 
O'er many a sea, and many a league of land, 
Triumphantly to show the marvellous prize : 
And him tb.at vexed his lirain, and theories built 
Of gossamer upon the brittle winds ; 
Perplexed exceedingly why shells were found 
Upon llie mountain tops ; but wondering not 
Why shells were found at all, more wondrous still ! 
Of him who strange enjoyment took in tales 
Of fairy folk, and sleepless ghosts, and sounds 
Unearthly, whispering in the ear of night 
Disastrous things : and him who still foretold 
Calamity which never came, and lived 
In terror all his days of comets rude, 
That should unmannerly and lawless drive 
Athwart the path of Earth, and burn mankind 
As if the appointed hour of doom, by God 
Appointed, ere its time should come : as if 
Too small the number of substantial Ills, 
And real fears to vex the sons of men. — 
These, — had tlioy not possessed immortal souls. 
And been accountable, might have been past 
With laughter, and forgot ; but as it was, 
And is — their folly asks a serious tear. 

Keen was the search, and various, and wide. 
For happiness. Take one example more — 
So strange, that common fools looked on amazed; 
And wise and sober men together drew. 
And trembling stood : and angels in the heavens 
Grew pale, and talked of vengeance as at hand— 
The sceptic's route — the unbeliever's, who, 
Despising reason, revelation, God, 
And kicking 'gainst the pricks of conscience, rushed 
Deliriously upon the feossy shield 
Of tile Omnipotent ; and iu his heart 



BOOK in. 57 

Purposed to. deify the idol chance. 

And labored hard — oh, labor worse than naught ! 

And toded with dark and cro;)ked reasoning, 

To make the fair and lovely Earth which dwelt 

Ip sight of Heaven, a cold and fatherless. 

Forsaken thing, that wandered on, forlorn, 

Undestined, unconipassioned, unupheld ; 

A vapor eddying in the whirl of chance. 

And soon to vanish everlastingly. 

He travailed sorely, and made many a tack, 

His sails oft shifting, to arrive — dread thought ' 

Arrive at utter nothingness ; and have 

Beiu^ no more — no feeling, memory. 

No hngering consciousness that e'er he was. 

Guilt's midnight wish ! last, most abhorred thought ! 

Most desperate effort of extremest sin ! 

Others 'irroccupied, ne'er saw true hope; 

He seeing, aimed to stab her to the heart. 

And \viih infernal chemistry to wring 

The last sweet drop from sorrow's cup of gall ; 

To quench the only ray that cheered the earth, 

And leave mankind in night which had no star 

Otliers tlie streams of pleasure troubled, he 

Toiled much to dry her very fountain head. 

Unpardonable man ! sold under sin ! 

He was the Devil's pioneer, who cut 

The fences down of virtue, sapped her walls, 

An^ ope.ed a smooth and easy way to death. 

Traitor to all existence ! to all life ! 

Soul-suicide ! determined foe of being ! 

Intended murderer of God, Most High ! 

Strange road, most strange ! to seek for happiness ! 

Hell's nrad-houses are fuH of such ; too fierce. 

Too furiously iiisane, and desperate. 

To rage unbound 'raong evil spirits damned ! 

Fertile was earth in many things : not least 
In fools, who mercy both and ju.lgment scorned ; 
Scorned love, ex|->erience scorned : and onward rushed 
Ty swift destruction, giving all reproof. 



58 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And all instruction, to the winds : and much 
Of botli they had — and much despised of both. 

Wisdom took up her harp, and stood in place 
Of frequent concourse — stood in every gate. 
By every way, an 1 walked in every street ; 
And, lifting up her voice, prochumed : Be wise. 
Ye fools ! be of an understanding heart. 
Forsake the wicked : come not near his house : 
Pass by : make haste : depart, and turn away. 
Me follow — me, whose ways are pleasantness. 
Whose paths are peace, whose end is perfect joy. 
The Seasons came and went, and went and came. 
To teach men gratitude ; and as they passed. 
Gave warning of tlie lapse of time, that else 
Had stolen unheeded by : the gentle Flowers 
Retired, an 1, stoo|)ing o'er the wilderness, 
Talked of humility, anl peace, and love. 
The Dews came down unseen at evening-tide, 
An 1 silently their bounties shed, to teach 
Mankind unostentatious charity. 
With arm in arm the fijrest rose on high. 
An I lesson gave of brotherly regard. 
And, on the rvigged muuntain-brow exposed, 
Bearing the blast alone — the ancient oak 
Stood, lifting high his mighty arm, and still 
To courage in distress exhorted loud. 
The flocks, the herds, the birds, the streams, the Dreeze, 
Atttmed the heart to meloily and love. 
Mercy stood in the cloud, widi eye that wept 
Essential love ; and, from her glorious bow, 
Ben ling to kiss the earth in token of peace, 
With her own lips, her gracious lips, which God 
Of sweetest accent made, she whispered still. 
She whispered to Revenge : — Forgive, foi'give ! 
The Sun rejoicing round the earth, announced 
Daily the wisdom, power, and love of God. 
The Moon awoke, and from her maiden face. 
Shedding her cloudy locks, looked meekly forth. 
And with her virgin stars walked in the Leavejis, 



Walked nightly there, conversing as she walked. 

Of purity, and holiness, and God. 

In dreams and visions sleep instructed much. 

Day uttered speech to day, anl night to night 

Taught knowledge : silence had a tongue : the grave, 

Th.e darkness, and the lonely waste, had each 

A tongue, that ever said — Man ! think of God ! 

Think of djyself ! think of eternity! 

Fear God, the thunders said ; fear God, the waves 

Fear God, the lightning of the storm replied ; 

Fear God, deep loudly answered back to deep. 

And, in the temples of the Holy One — 

Messiah's messengers, the faithful few — 

Faithful 'mong many false — the Bible opened, 

And cried : Repent ! repent ye Sons of Men ' 

Believe, be saved : and reasoned awfully 

Of temperance, righteousness, and judgment soon 

To come — of ever-during life an 1 death. 

And chosen bards from age to age awoke 

The sacred lyre, and full on fdlly's ear, 

Numbers of righteous indignation poured. 

And God omnipotent, when mercy failed. 

Made bare his hidy arm ; and with the stroke 

Of vengeance smote ; the fountains of the deep 

Broke up ; heaven's windows of ened; and sent on men 

A ilood of wrath; sent plague and famine forth; 

With earthquake rocked the world beneath ; with 

storms 
Above ; laid cities waste ; and tui ned fat lands 
To barrenness ; and vddi the swoid of war 
In fury marched, and gave them blood to drink. 
Angels remonstrated ; Merry beseeched : 
Heaven smiled, and frowned : Hell groaned : Time 

fled : Death shook 
flh dart, and dneatened to make repentance vain — 
Incredible assertion ! men rushed on 
Determinedly to ruin : shut their ears, 
Their eyes to all advice, to all reproof — 
3'er mercy and o'er judgment downward rushed 
f o misery : and, most incredibte 



bO THE COORbE OF TIME. 

Of all ! to misery rushed along the way 
Of disappointment and remorse, where still 
At every step, adders, in pleasure's form, 
Stung mortally ; and Joys, — whose bloomy cheeks 
Seemed glowing high with immortality. 
Whose bosoms prophesied supeniuons bliss, — 
While in the arms received, and locked in close 
And riotous embrace, turned pale, and cold, 
And died, and smelled of putrifaction rank : 
Turned, in the very moment of delight, 
A loathsome, heavy corpse, that wlJi the clear 
And hollow eyes of Death, stared horribly. 

All tribes, all generations of the earth. 
Thus wantonly to ruin diove alike : 
We heard indeed of golden and silver days ', 
And of primeval innocence unstained — 
A pagan tale ! but by baptized bards. 
Philosophers, and statesmen, who were still 
Held wise and cunning men, talked of so much, 
That most believed it so, and asked not why. 

The pair, the family first made, were ill ; 
And for their great peculiar sin incurred 
The Curse, and left it due to all their race ; 
And bold example gave of eveiy crime — 
Hate, murder, unbelief, reproach, revenge. 
A time, 'tis true, there came, of which thou soon 
Shalt hear — the Sabbath Day, the Jubilee 
Of Earth, v.hen i ighteousness and peace prevailed 
This time except, v/ho writes the history 
Of men, and writes it true, must write them bad. 
Who reads, must read of violence and blood. 
The man who could the story of one day 
Peruse; the wrongs, oppressions, cruelties; 
Deceits, and perjuries, and vanities ; 
Rewarded worthlessness, rejected worth ; . 
Assassinations, robberies, thefts, and wars ; 
Disastrous accidents, life thrown away; 
Divioity insulted ; Heavea despised ; 



61 



Religion scorned ; — and not been sick at night, 
And sad, had gathered greater store of mirth. 
Than ever wise man in the world could find. 

One cause of folly, one especial cause 
Was this — few knew what wisdom was ; tho' well 
Defined in God's own words, and printed lai^e. 
On heaven and earth in characters of light, 
And sounded in the ear bj^ every wind. 

Wisdom is humble, said the voice of God. 
'Tis proud, the world replied. Wisdom, said God 
Forgives, forbears and suffers, not for fear 
Of man, but God. Wisdom revenges, said 
Tne world ; is quick and deadly of resentment j 
Thrusts at the very shadow of affront, 
And hastes, bv death, to wipe its honor clean 
Wisdom, said God, loves enemies, entreats. 
Solicits, begs for peace. Wisdom, replied 
The world, hales enemies ; will not ask peace, 
Conditions spurns, and triumphs in their fall. 
Wisdom mistrusts itself, and leans on heaven. 
Said God. It trusts and leans upon itself. 
The world replied. Wisdom retires, said God, 
Vnd counts it bravery to bear reproach 
\nd shame, and l(nvly poverty upright; 
And weeps with all who have just cause to weep 
Wisdom, replied the world, struts forth to gaze ; 
Treads the broad stage of life with clamorous foot , 
Attracts all praises ; counts it bravery 
Alone to wield the sword, and rush on death ; 
And never weeps, but for its own disgrace. 
vVisdom, said God, is highest, when it stoops 
Lowest before the Holy Throne, throws down 
Itf crown abased, forgets itself, admires, 

.•{ breathes adoring praise. There wisdom stoops 
indeed, tlie world replied — there stoops, because 
It must : but stoops with dignity; and thinks 
A-od meditatea the while of inward worth. 



62 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Tlius (lid Almighty God, and thus the world. 
Wisdom define. And most the world believed ; 
And boldly called the truth of God a lie. 
Hence, he that to the worldly wisdom shaped 
His character, became the favorite 
Of men — was honorable termed ; a man 
Of spirit ; noble, gloriou'-, lofty soul ! 
And as he crossed the earth in cha«e of dreams. 
Received prodigious sh luts of warm applause. 
Hence, wlio to godly wisdom framed his life. 
Was counted mean, and spiritless, an I vile. 
And as he walked obscurely in the path 
Which le 1 to heaven, fools hisse 1 with serpent tongue, 
Aiid poured contem|,t upon his holy head ; 
And poured contempt on all who praised his name. 

But false as this account of wisdom was — 
The world's I mean — it was its best : the creed 
Of sober, grave, and philosophic men ; 
With much research and cogitation framed; 
Of men, whj with the vulgar scorned to sit. 

The popular belief seemed rather worse, 
When heard replying to the voice of truth. 

The wise man, said the Bible, walks with God, 
Surveys far on the en Hess line of life; 
Values his soul ; thinks of eternity ; 
Both worlds considers, and provides for both; 
With reason's eye his passions guards ; abstains 
From evil; lives on h^pe, on hope, the fruit 
Of faith ; looks upward ; purities his soul ; 
Expands hitj wii)T[s, an I m )unts into the sky; 
Passes the sun, an 1 gains his father's house ; 
And drinks with angels from the fount of bliss. 

The multitude aloud replied — replied 
Bv practice, for they were not bookish men ; 
Nor apt to form their principles in words — 
The wise man fii-st of all ei-adicatea. 



BOOK 111. 62 

As much as possible, from out his mind. 

Ail thought of death, God, anJ eternity ; 

Admires the world, and thinks of Time alone ; 

Avoids the Bible, all reproof avoids ; 

Rocks conscience, if he can, asleep ; puts out 

The eye of reason ; prisons, tortures, binds ; 

And makes her thus, by violence and force. 

Give wicked evidence against herself : 

Lets passion loose ; the substance leaves ; pursues 

The shadow vehemently, but ne'er o'ertakes; 

Puts by the cup of holiness and joy ; 

And drinks, carouses deeply in the bowl 

Of death ; grovels in dust ; pollutes, destroys 

His soul ; is miserable to acquire 

More misery ; deceives to be deceived ; 

Strives, labors to the last to shun the truth ; 

Strives, labors to the last to damn himself; 

Turns desperate, shudders, groans, blasphemes, and 

dies. 
And sinks — where could he else 1 — to endless wo : 
And drinks the wine of God's eternal wrath. 

The learned thus, and thus the unlearned world. 
Wisdom defined — in sound they disagreed; 
In substance, in effect, in end the same ; 
And equally to God and truth opposed ; 
Opposed as darkness to the light of heavert. 
Yet were there some that seemed well meaning men. 
Who systems planned, expressed in supple words. 
Which praised the man as wisest, that in one 
United both; pleased God, and pleased the world; 
And with the saint, and with the sinner had. 
Changing his garb unseen, a good report. 
And many thought their definition best j 
And in their wisdom grew exceeding wise. 

Union abhorred ! dissimalation vain ! 
Could holiness embrace the harlot sin 1 
Could life wed death 1 could God witli Mammon dwell . 
Oh, foolish meo ' oh, men for ever bst I 
G 



(54 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

In spite of mercy lost, in spite of wrath ■ 
In spite of Disappointment and Remorse, 
Which made the way to ruin ruinous ! 

Hear what they were : — the progeny of sin 
Alike ; and oft combined : but differing much 
In mode of giving pain. As felt the gross. 
Material part, when in the furnace cast. 
So felt the soul the victim of remorse. 
It was a fire which on the verge of God's 
Commandments burned, and on the vitals fed 
Of all who passed. Who passed, there met remorse 
A violent fever seized his soul ; the heavens 
Above, the earth beneath, seemed glowing brass. 
Heated seven times ; he heard dread voices speak. 
And mutter horrid prophecies of pain, 
Severer and severer yet to come : 
And as he writhed and quiveretl, scorched within, 
Tlie Fury round his torrid temjiles flapped 
Her fiery wings, and breathed upon his lips. 
And parched tongue, the withered blasts of hell 
It was the suffering begun, thou saw'st 
In symbol of the Worm that never dies. 

The other — Disappointment, rather seeftied 
Negation of delight. It was a thing 
Sluggish and torpid, tending towards death. 
Its breath was cold, and made the sportive blood. 
Stagnant, and dull, and heavy round the wheels 
Of life : the roots of that whereon it blew, 
Decayed, and with the genial soil no more 
Held sympathy — the leaves, the blanches drooped. 
And mouklered slowly down to formless dust ; 
Not tossed and driven by violence of winds ; 
But withering where they sprung, and rotting there. 
Long disappointed, disappointed still. 
The hopeless man, hopeless in his main wish. 
As if returning back to nothing felt ; 
In strange vacuity of being hung, 
And rolled, and rolled his ej'e on emptiness. 
That aeeaaed to grow more empty evety hour. 



BOOK III, 65 

One of this mood 1 do remember well : 
We name him not, what now are earthly names T 
In humble dwelling bora, retired, remote. 
In rural (juietude ; 'mong hills, and streams, 
Ani melancholy deserts, where the sun 
Saw, as he passed, a shepherd only, here 
And there watching his little flock ; or heard 
The plowman talking to his steers — his hopes. 
His morning hopes, awoke before him smiling. 
Among tiie dews, and holy mountain airs ; 
And fancy colored thetn with every hue 
Of heavenly loveliness : but soon his dreams 
Of childhood fled away — those rainbow dieams, 
So innocent an:l fair, that withered age, 
Even at the grave, cleared up his dusty eye. 
And passing all between, looked fondly back 
To see them once again ere he departed. — 
These fled awaj — and anxious thought, that wished 
To go, yet whither knew not well to go. 
Possessed his soul, and held it still awhile. 
He listened — and heard from far the voice of Fame 
Heard, an 1 was charmed ; and deep and sudden vow 
Of resolution made to be renowned : 
And deeper vowed again to keep his vow. 
His parents saw — his parents whom God made 
Of kindest heart — saw, and indulged his hope. 
The ancient page ho tuined ; read much ; thought 

much ; 
And with old bards of honorable name 
Measured his so>d severely ; and looked up 
To fame, ambitious of no second place. 
Hope grew from inward faith, and promised fair : 
And out before him opened many a path 
Ascending, where the laurel highest waved 
Her branch of endless green. He stood admiring , 
But stood, admired not long. The harp he seized ; 
The harp he loved — loved better than his life ; 
The harp which tittered deepest notes, and held 
The ear of thought a captive to its song. 
He searched, and meditated much, and whiles 



66 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

With rapturous hand in secret touched the lyre, 
Aiming at glorious strains — and searched again 
For theme deserving of inunortal verse : 
Chose now, and now refused unsatisfied; 
Pleased, then displeased, and hesitating still. 

Thus stood his mind, when round him came a cloud j 
Slowly and heavily it came; a cloud 
Of ills we mention not : enough to say 
'Twas cold, and dead, impenetrable gloom. 
He saw its dark approach ; and saw his hopes. 
One after one, put out, as nearer still 
It drew his soul, but fainted not at first ; 
Fainted not soon. He knew the lot of man 
Was trouble, and prepared to bear the worst ■ 
Endure whate'er should coine, without a sigh 
Endure, and drink, even to the very dregs, 
The bitterest cup that Time could measure out ; 
And, having done, look up, and ask for more. 

He called Philosophy, and with his heart 
Reasoned : he called Religion too, but called 
Reluctantly, and therefore was not heard. 
Ashamed to bp o'ermatched by earthly woes, 
He sought, and sought with eye that dimmed apace. 
To find some avenue to liglit, some place 
On which to rest a hope — but sought in vain. 
Darker and darker still the darkness grew ; 
At length he sunk, and disappointment stood 
His only comforter, and mournfully 
Told all was past. His interest in life, 
In Ijeing, ceased : and now he seemed to feel. 
And shuddered as he felt ; his powers of mind 
Decaying in the spring-time of his day. 
The "gorous, weak became ; the clear, obscure; 
Memory gave up her charge ; decision reeled ; 
And from her flight fancy returned, returned 
P^f^^u^e she found no nourishment abroad. 
I'.ie blue heavens withered, and the moon, and surif 
And all tlie stars, and the green earth, and morn 



67 



And evening withered ; and the eyes, and smiles, 

And faces of all men and women withered; 

Withered to him ; and all the universe. 

Like something which had been, appeared, but now 

Was dead and mouldering fast away. He tried 

No more to hope : wished to forget his vow : 

Wished to forget his harp : then ceased to wisl 

That was his last. Enjoyment now was done. 

He had no hope — no wish — and scarce a fear. 

Of being sensible, and sensible 

Of loss, he, as some atom seemed which God 

Had made superfluously, and needed not 

To build creation with ; but back again 

To Nothing threw, and left it in the void. 

With everlasting sense that once it was. 

Oh, who can tell what days, what nights he spent. 
Of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless wo ! 
And who can tell, how many, glorious once. 
To others, and themselves of promise fyll. 
Conducted to this pass of human thought. 
This wilderness of in-ellectual death, 
Wasted and pined, and vanished Irom the earth. 
Leaving no vestige of memorial theie ! 

It was not so with him : when thus he lay. 
Forlorn of heart, withered and desolate. 
As leaf of Autumn, which the wolfish winds. 
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase 
Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes. 
And leave it there alone to be forgotten 
Eternally — God passed in mercy by. 
His praise be ever new ! and on him breathed. 
And bade him live ; and put into his hands 
A holy harp, into his lips a song, 
That rolled its numbers down the tide of Time. 
Ambitious now but little to be praised 
Of men alone ; ambitious most to be 
Apprf^ved of God, the Judge of all ; and have 
His name recorded in the book of life. 



68 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Such things were Disappointment, and Remorse : 

And oft united both, as friends severe. 
To teach men wisdom : but the fool untaught. 
Was fooHsh still. His ear he stopped ; his eyes 
He shut ; and blmdly, deafly obstinate. 
Forced desperately his way from wo to wo. 

One place, one only place there was on earth. 
Where no man e'er was fool — how^ever mad. 
" Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.'* 
Ah ! 'twas a truth most true ; and sung in Time, 
And to the sons of men, by one well known 
On earth for lofty verse, and lofty sense. 
Much hast thou seen, fair youth ! much heard ; but thou 
Hast never seen a death-bed, never heard 
A dying groan. Men saw it often : 'twas sad, 
To all most sorrowful and sad — to guilt 
*Twas anguish, terror, darkness, without bow. 
But O, it had a most convincing tongue, 
A potent oratory, that secured 
Most mute attention : and it spoke the truth 
So boldly, plainly, perfectly distinct. 
That none the meaning could mistake, or doubf. 
And had withal a disenchanting power, 
A most omnipotent and wondrous power. 
Which in a moment broke, for ever broke. 
And utterly dissolved the cha-rms, and spells. 
And cunning sorceries of Earth and Hell. 
And thus it spoke to him who ghastly lay. 
And struggled for another breath : Earth's cup 
Is poisoned : her renown, most infamous ; 
Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust ; 
Her titles, slanderous names ; her praise, reproach ; 
Her strength, an idiot's boast ; her wisdom, blind j 
Her gain, eternal loss ; her hope, a dream j 
Her love, her friendship, enmity with God; 
Her promises, a lie ; her smile, a harlot's ; 
Her beauty, paint, and rotten within ; her pleasures. 
Deadly assassins masked ; her laugliter, grief; 
Her breasts, the sting of Death j her total sum. 



Her all, most utter vanity ; and all 

Her lovers mad ; insane most grievously ; 

And most insane, because they know it not. 

Thus did the mighty reasoner Death declare 
And volumes more : and in one word confirmeil 
The Bible wh;ile — Eternity is all. 
But few spectators, few believed of those 
Who staid behind. The wisest, best of men 
Believed not to the letter full ; but turned. 
And on the world looked forth, as if they thought 
The well trimmed hypocrite had something still 
Of inward worth : the dying man alone 
Gave faithful audience, ami the words of Death 
To the last jot believed ; believed and felt j 
But oft, alas ! believed and felt too late. 

And had Earth then no joys 1 no native sweets. 
No happiness, that one who spoke the truth 
Might call her own 1 She had ; true, native sweets; 
In iigenoiis delights, which up the Tree 
Of holiness, embracing as they grew, 
Ascended, and bore fruit of heavenly taste : 
In pleasant memory held, and talked of oft. 
By yonder Saints who walk the golden streets 
Of New Jerusalem, and compass round 
The t'lrone, with nearest vision blest — of these 
Hereafter thou shalt hear, delighted hear j 
One page of beauty in the life of man 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK IV. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK IV. 

Sketches are given by the Bard of several features in the 
history and affairs of man, which appeared wonderful. 

One singular feature was the universal love of indepen- 
dence united with lust for power, so that the essence of 
" earth's liberty" was, after all its praises, nothing but 
this ; " each sought to make all subject to his will j" 
but real liberty was the freedom from sin and passion, 
effected by the truth and spirit of God. 

A wonderful phenomenon appeared in the Christian heart. 
This exhibited a scene of strangest conflicts between 
opposite principles, and inconsistent emotions. But the 
final victory was found on the side of holiness ; and the 
Christian, after all his internal struggles, and all the 
abuse and slander of Earth, was brought in triumph to 
the world of glory. 

The Books composed in Time presented also an occasion 
of wonder. They were numerous as the swarms of 
locusts sent on rebellious Egypt, but, like their authors, 
went to oblivion under the curse that returns dust to 
kindred dust. 

Various things in the government and providence of God, 
furnished ground of wonder among men. The origin of 
evil, the predetermination of accountable actions, the 
mystery of the Trinity and Incarnation, were subjects, 
which Theology and Philosophy and Fancy toiled in 
vain to comprehend. 

There seemed something wondrous in the unequal distribu 
tion of worldly possessions and intellectual gifts. But 
the Providence of God plainly taught that He did not 
estimate men by their outward circumstances or thoir 
mere talents, but by their moral worth. A pertinent and 
affecting illustration ia found in the history of the gifted, 
wretched Byron. 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK IV. 



The world had much of strange and wonderful : 
Tn passion much, in action, reason, will ; 
And much in Providence, wliich stil! retired 
From human eye, and led philosophy, 
That ill lier ignorance liked to own, thro' dark 
And dangerous paths of speculation wild. 
Some striking features, as we pass, we mark. 
In order such as memory suggests. 

One passion prominent appears ! — the lust 
Of power, which oft-times took the fairer name 
Of liberty, and hung the popular flag 
Of freedom out. Many, indeed, its names. 
When on the throne it sat, and round the neck 
Of millions riveted its iron chain. 
And on the shoulders of the people laid 
Burdens unmerciful — it title took 
Of tyranny, oppression, despotism; 
And every tongue was weary cursing it. 
When in th? multitude it gathered strength, 
And, like an ocean bursting from its bounds. 
Long beat in vain, went forth resistlessly, 
It bore the stamp and designation tlien. 



72 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Of popular fury, anarchy, rebellion — 

And honest men bewailed all order void) 

All laws, annulled; all property, destroyed; 

The venerable, murdered in the streets ; 

The wise, despised; streams, red with human bloodj 

Harvests, beneath the frantic foot trode down; 

Lands, desolate ; and famine, at the door. 

These a«-e a part; but oti.er names it had 
Innumerous as the shapes and robes it wore. 
But under every name — in nature still 
Invariably the same, and always bad. 
We own indeed that oft against itself 
It fought, and sceptre both anil people gave 
An equal aid, as long exemplified 
In Albions'iTtsle — Albion, queen of the seas — 
And in the struggle something like a kind 
Of civil liberty grew up, the best 
Of mere terrestrial root ; but sickly too, 
And living only, strange to tell! in strife 
Of factions equally contending ; dead, 
That very moment dead that one prevailed. 

Conflicting cruelly against itself. 
By its own hand it fell ; part slaying part. 
And men who noticed not the suicide. 
Stood wondering reiich, why earth from age ta age. 
War still enslaved, and erring causes gave. 

This was earth's liberty — its nature this — 
However named, in whomsoever found. 
And found it was in all of woman born. 
Each man to make all subject to his will ; 
To make them do, undo, eat, drink, stand, move. 
Talk, think, and feel, exactly as he chose. 
Hence the eternal strife of brotherhoods. 
Of uidividuals, families, commonwealths. 
The root frji; which it grew was pride — bad root ' 
And bad the fruit it bore. Then wonder not 
That loot the. nations from it richly reaped 



72 



Oppression, slavery, tyranny, and war ; 

Confusion, desolation, trouble, shame. 

Ani marvellous tlio' it seem, this monster, when 

It took the name of slavery, a? oft 

It did, had arlvocates to plead its cause ; 

Beings that walked erect, and spoke like men ; 

Of Cliristian parentage descended too. 

And dipt in the baptismal font, as sign 

Of dedication to the Prince who bowed 

To death, to set the sin-bound prisoner free. 

Unchristian thought ! on what pretence soe'er 
Of right inherited, or else acquired ; 
Of l(jss, or profit, or what plea you name, 
Tj buy and sell, to barter, whip, and hold 
In chains a being of celestial make — 
Of kindred form, of kinired faculties, 
Of kin Ired feelings, passions, thoughts, desires; 
Born free, and heir of an immortal hope ! — 
Th )ught vilh'.nous, absurd, detestable ! 
Unworthy to be h.irbr,re'< in a fiend! 
And only overreached in wickedness 
Bv that," birth too of earthly lilierty. 
Which aimed to make a reasonable man 
By legislation ihink, and by the sword 
Believe- This was that liberty renowned. 
Those equal rights of Greece and Rome, where men. 
All, but a few, were bought, and sold, and scourged. 
And killed, as interest or caprice enjoined : 
In aftertimes talked of, written of so much. 
That most by sound, and custom led away. 
Believed the essence answered to the name. 
Historians on this theme were long and warm; 
Statesmen, drunk with the fumes of vain debate. 
In lofty swelling phrase, called it perfection ; 
Philosophers its rise, advance, and fall 
Traced carefully; and poets kindled still, 
As memory brought it up ; tlieir lips were touched 
With fire, and uttered words that men adored* 
Even he — true bard of ZioQ> holy man I 



74 THE COUKSE OF TIME. 

To whom the Bible langht this precious verse : 
" He is the tVeeman whom the truth makes free," 
By fashion, tho' by fashion httle swayed, 
Scarce kej)t his harp from pagan freedom's praise. 

The captive prophet, wliom Jehovah gave 
The future years, described it best, when he 
Beheld it rise iu vision of the night — 
A dreadful beast, and terrible, and strong 
Exceedingly, with mighty iron teeth ; 
And lo, it brake in pieces, and devoured. 
And stamped the residue beneath its feet ! 

True liberty was Christian, sanctified. 
Baptised, and found in Christian hearts alone. 
First born of Virtue ! daughter of the skies ! 
Nursling of truth divine ! sister of all 
The graces, meekness, holiness, and love : 
Giving to God, and man, and all bel;)w. 
That symptom .showed of sensible existence, 
Their due unasked ; fear to whom fear was due ; 
To all, respec^t, benevolence, and Jove. 
Companion of religion ! where rfhe came 
Theie freedom came ; where dwelt, tliere freedom 

dwelt ; 
Ruled where she ruled, expired where she expired. 

" He was the freeman whom the truth made fiee :'*— • 
Who first of all, the bands of Satan broke ; 
Who broke the bands of Sin ; and for his soul. 
In spite of fools consulted seriously ; 
In spite of fashion perseve>'ed in good ; 
In spite of wealth or poverty, upright ; 
Who did as reason, not as flincy bade ; 
Who heard temptation sing, and yet turned not 
Aside ; saw sin bedeck her flowery bed. 
And yet would not go up ; felt at his heart 
The sword unsheathed, yet would not sell the truth; 
Who, having power, had not the will to hurt; 
Who blushed alike to be, or have a slave; 



BOOK IV. 75 

Who blushed at naught but sin, feared naught but God ; 

Who, finally, in strong integrity 

Of soul, 'midst want, or riches, or disgrace. 

Uplifted calmly sat, and heard the waves 

Of stormy folly breaking at his feet ; 

Now shrill with praise, now hoarse with foul reproach. 

And both despised sincerely ; seeking this 

Alone — the approbation of his God, 

Which still with conscience witnessed to his peace. 

This, this is freedom, such as angels use, 
And kindred to the hberty of God. 
First born of Virtue ! daughter of the skies ! 
The man, the state in whom she ruled, was free ; 
All else were slaves of Satan, Sin, and Death. 

Already thou hast something heard of good 
And ill, of vice and virtue, perfect each : 
Of those redeemed, or else abandoned quite ; 
And more shait hear, when at die judgment day 

The characters we of mankind review. 

Seems aught which thou hast heard astonishing 1 

A greater wonder now thy audience asks : 

Phenomena in all the universe 

Of moral being most anomalous ; 

Inexplicable most, and wonderful. 

I'll introduce thee to a single heart ; 

A human heart : we enter not the worst ; 

But one by God's renewing Spirit touched^ 

A Christian heart, awaked from sleep of sin. 

What seest thon here'? what mark 'stl observe it well.— 

Will, passion, reason ; hopes, fears ; joy, distress; 

Peace, turbulence ; simplicity, deceit; 

Good, ill ; corruption, immortality, 

A temple of the Holy Ghost, and yet 

Oft lodging fiends ; the dwelling place of all 

The heavenly virtues — charity and truth. 

Humility, and holiness, and love ; 

And yet the common haunt of anger, pride, 

Hatred, revenge, and passions foul with lust; 



76 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Allierl to heaven, yet parleying oft with hell : 

A sol.Iier listed in Messiah's band, 

Yel givinu; (iiiarter to Abaddon's troops : 

With serapiis drinking from the well of life. 

An I yet carausing in tlie cup of death : 

An lisir of heaven, Jjnd vv;.?.iing thitherward. 

Yet casting back a covetous eye on earth : 

Einbiern of strength, anJ weakness ; Irving now. 

An I now abhorring sin ; indulging now, 

And now repenting sore : rejoicit.g now, 

Willi joy unspeakable, and full of glory. 

Now weeping bitte ly, and clothed in dust. 

A mail willing to do, and doing not ; 

Doing, and willing not; embracing what 

He hates, what most he loves abandoning. 

Half saint, anl sinner half — half life, half death : 

Commixture strange of Heaven, and Earth, and Hell! 

What seest thou here '? what mark'st '? a battle-field- 
Two banners spread ; two dreadful fronts of war 
In shock of opposition fierce engaged — 
God, angels, saw whole empires rise in arms ; 
Saw kings exalted; heard them tumbled down j 
And otlier's raised, — and heeded not : but here. 
Go I, angels, looked ; God, angels, fought ; and Hell, 
With all his legions, fonght : here error fought 
With truth ; with darkness light ; and Hfe withdeatll' 
And here not kingdoms, reputations, worlds. 
Were won ; the strife was for eternity ; 
The victory was never-en:Iing bliss ; 
The badge a chaplet from the tree of life.- 

While thus within contending armies strove,. 
Without the Christian had his troubles too. 
For, as by God's unalterable laws. 
And ceremonial of the heaven of heavens. 
Virtue takes place of all, and worthiest deeds 
Sit highest at the feast of bliss ; on Earth 
The opposite was fashion's rule polite. 
Virtue tlie lowest place at table took. 



7? 



Or served, or was shut out : the Christian still 
Was mocked, derided, persecuted, slain : 
And Slander, worse than mockery, or sword. 
Or death, stood nightly by her horrid forge. 
And fabricated lies to stain his name, 
And wound his peace — but still he had a source 
Of happiness, that men could neither give 
Nor take away : the avenues that led 
To immortality before him lay ; 
He saw, with faith's far reaching eye, the fount 
Of life, his Father's house, his Saviour God, 
And borrowed thence to help his present want. 

Encountered thus with enemies without, 
Within, like bark that meets opposing winds 
And floods, this way, now that, she steers athwart 
Tossed by the wave, and driven by the storm ; 
But still the pilot, ancient at tlie helm, 
The harbor keeps in eye ; and after much 
Of danger past, and many a prayer rude, 
He runs her safely in — So was the man 
Of God beset, so tossed by adverse winds j 
And so his eye upon the land of life 
He kept. Virtue grew daily stronger, sin 
Decayed ; his enemies repulsed, retired ; 
Till at the stature of a perfect man 
In Christ arrived, and, with the Spirit filled. 
He gained the harbor of eternal rest. 

But think not virtue else than dwells in God 
Essentially, was perfect, without spot. 
Examine yonder suns ! at distance seen, 
How bright they burn ! how gloriously they shine. 
Mantling the worlds around in beamy light ! 
But nearer viewed, we through their lustre see 
Some dark behind : so virtue was on earth. 
So is in heaven, and so shall always be. 
Though good it seem, immaculate, and fair, 
Exceedingly to saint or angel's gaze. 
The uncreated Eye, that searches all, 
H 



78 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Sees It imperfect ; sees, but blames not ; sees, 
Well-pleased ; and best with those who de-pest dive 
Into themselve^<, and know themselves the most : 
Taught thence in humbler reverence to bow 
Before the Holy One ; and oftner view 
His excellence, that in them still may rise. 
And grow his likeness, growing evermore. 

Nor think that any, born of Adam's race. 
In his own proper virtue, entered heaven. 
Once fallen from God and perfect holiness, 
No being, unassisted, e'er could rise, 
Or sanctify the sin-polluted soul. 
Oft was the trial made ; but vainly made. 
So oft as men in Earth's best livery clad, 
However fair, approached the gates of heaven. 
And stood presented to the eye of God, 
Their impious pride so oft his soul abhorred. 
Vain hope ! in patch-work of terrestiial grain. 
To be received into the courts above ; 
As vain, as towards yonder suns to soar. 
On wing of waxen plumage melting soon. 

Look round, and see those numbers infinite. 
That stand before the throne, and in their hands 
Palms waving high, as token of victory 
For battles won — these are the sons of men 
Redeemed, the ransomed of the Lamb of God: 
All these, and millions more of kindred blood. 
Who now are out on inessages ol love — 
All these — their virtue, beauty, excellence. 
And joy, are purchase of reJecming blood; 
Their glory, bounty of redeeming luve. 

O love divme ! harp, lift thy voice on high ! 
Shout, angels ! shout aloud, ye sons of men ! 
And burn my heart with the eternal flame ! 
My lyre, be eloquent with endless praise ! 
O love divine ! immeasurable love ! 
Stooping from beaven to etu-Ui, from eartU to liell. 



BOOK IV. 79 

without beginning, enlless, boundless love! 

Above all asking, giving f.w to those 

Who naught deserve 1, who naught deserved but death. 

Saving tiie vilest ! saving me ! O love 

Divine ! O Saviour GoJ ! O Lamb, once slain ! 

At thought of thee, thy love, thy flowing blood. 

All thoughts decay ; all things remembered, fade ; 

All hopes return; all actions done by men 

Or angels, disappear, absorbed and lost : 

All fly — as from the great white throne, which he. 

The prophet, saw, in vision wrapt — the heavens 

Anl earth, and sun, an.l moon, and starry host, 

ConfounJed fled, and found a place no more. 

One glance of wonder, as we pass, deserve 
The books of Time. Productive was the world 
In many things ; but most in books : like swarms 
Of locusts, which God sent to vex a land 
Rebellious long, admonished long in vain. 
Their numbers they poured annually on man, 
From heads conceiving still : perpetual birth ! 
Thou vvonderest, how the world contained them all ! 
Thy won ler stay : like men, this was their doom : — 
That dust th^y were, an 1 should to dust return. 
An 1 oft their fathers, childless and bereaved, 
Wept o'er their graves, when they themselves were 

green ; 
And on them fell, as fell on every a<Te, 
As on their authors fell, oblivious Night, 
Which o'er the past lay darkling, heavy, still. 
Impenetrable, motionless, and sad. 
Having his dismal leaden plumage, stirred 
Bv no remembrancer, to show the men 
Who after came what was concealed beneath. 

The story-telling tribe alone, outran 
All calculation far, and left behind. 
Lagging, the swiftest numbers : dreadful, even 
To fancy, was their never-ceasing birth ; 
And room had lacketl, had not their life l)een ghort. 
Bxceptiftfj mate — tlieir definition tukts 



so THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Thou thus, exprest in gentlo phrase, which leaves 

Some truth behind . A Novel was a book 

Three-volumed, and once read ; and oft crammed full 

■Of poisonous error, blackening every page j 

And oftener still of trifling, second-hand 

Remark, anrl old, diseased, putrid thought; 

And miserable incitlent, at war 

With nature, with itself, and truth at war * 

Yet charming still, the greedy reader on, 

Till done — he tried to recollect his thoughts. 

And nothing found, but dreaming emptiness. 

These, like ephemera sprung in a day. 

From lean and shallow soiled brains of sand. 

And in a day expired : yet while they lived. 

Tremendous oft-times was the popular roar ; 

And cries of — Live for ever — struck the skies. 

One kind alone remained, seen thro' the gloom. 
And sullen shadow of the past ; as lights 
At intervals they shone, and brought the eye, '' 
That backward travelled, upward, till arrived 
At him, who on the hills of Midian, sang 
The patient man of Uz ; and from the lyre 
Of angels, learned the early dawn of Time. 
Not light and momentary labor these. 
But discipline and self-denial long. 
And purpose staunch, and perseverance, asked, 
And energy that inspiration seemed. 
Composed of many thoughts, possessing each. 
Innate and underived vitality : 
Which having fitly shaped, and well arranged 
In brotherly accord, they builded up — 
A stately superstructure, that, nor wind. 
Nor wave, nor shock of falling years could move* 
Majestic and indissolubly firm ; 
As ranks of veteran warriors in the field ; 
Each by himself alone, and singly seen — 
A tower of strength ; in massy phalanx knit. 
And in embattled squadron rushing on — 
A sea of valor, dread ! invincible ! 



81 



Books of this soi't, or sacred, or profan^ 
Which virtue helped, were titled not amiss. 
The medicine of the mind : who read them, read 
Wisdom, and was refreshed ; and on his path 
Of pilgrimage with healthier step^vanced. 

In mind, in matter, much was difficult 
To understand : but what in deepest night 
Retired ; inscrutable, mysterious, dark, 
Was evil ; God's decrees ; and deeds decreed. 
Responsible, Why God, the just, and good, 
Omnipotent and wise, should suffer sin ^. 

To rise. Why man was free , accountable ; '^ 
Yet God foreseeing, overruling all. 
Where'er the eye could turn, whatever tract 
Of moral thought it took, by reason's torch. 
Or Scripture's led, before it still this mount 
Sprung up, impervious, insurmountable ; 
Above the human stature rising far; 
Horizon of the mind — surrounding still 
The vision of the soul with clouds and gloom. 
Yet did they oft attempt to scale its sides. 
And gain its top. Philosophy, to climb 
With all her vigor, toiled from age to age; 
From age to age. Theology, with all 
Her vigor, toiled ; and vagrant fancy toiled. 
Not weak and foolish only, but the wise, 
Patient, courageous, stout, sound-headed men. 
Of proper discipline, of excellent wind. 
And strong of intellectual limb, toiled hard ; 
And oft above the reach of common eye 
Ascended far, and seemed well nigh the top; 
But only seemed ; for still another top 
Above them rose, till giddy grown and mad, 
With gazing at these dangerous heights of God, 
They tumbled down, and in their raving said, 
They o'er the summit saw : and some believed ; 
Believed a he ; for never man on earth. 
That mountain crossed, or saw its farther side 
Around it lay the wreck of many a Sage— 



82 THK COURSE OF TIME. 

Divine-^^ilosoi>her ; an;? many more 
Fell ilail'v, nn leterrfea by millions fallen; 
Each wo"n;lering^a|g^e faih^.J to comprehend 
God, and with fi™gpreasuie infinite. 
To pass U, was ntffloubt desirable; 
And few of any intellectual size, 
That did not sometimj in their day attempt; 
But all ill vain*; for as the distant hill. 
Which on thfe right, or left the traveller's eye 
Boun Is, seems advancing as he walks, an ] (jft 
►He looks, and looks, and thinks to pass; but still 
It f j^ird moves, and mocks his baffled sight, 
Till mf he descen Is and wraps the scene in gloom : 
So did this moral height the visio-.i mock; 
So lifted up its dark and cloudy head, 
Before the eye, and met it evermore. 
And some provoked — accused the righteous God 
Accused of whatl hear human boldness n)w' 
Hear guilt, hear folly, madness, all extreme ! 
Accused of what 1 the God of truth accused 
Of cruelty, injustice, wickeihiess! 
Abundant sin ! Because a mortal man, 
A worm at best of small capacity. 
With scarce an atom of Jehovah's works 
Before hiin, and with scarce an hour to look 
Upim them, siiould presume to censure God — 
The infinite and uncreated God ' ,^ 

To sit in judgment — on Himself, his works, 
His provi.lence ! and try, accuse, condemn ! 
If there is aught, thought or to think, absurd. 
Irrational, and wicked, this is more — 
This most; the sin of devils, or of those 
To devils growing fast : wise men and good. 
Accused themselves, not God ; and put their handa 
Upon their moutlis and in the dust adored. 

The Christian's faith had many mysteries too. 
The uncreated holy Three in One ; 
Divine incarnate; human in divine; 
The inwaid call ; the sanctifying Dew 



nooK IV. 83 

Coming unsefn, unseen departing tljohce ; ■«■* .. • 
Anew creating all, and yet not heard ; , *' 

Compelling, jet not felt : — niysteiions these; 
Not that Jehovah to eunceal them wished ; 
Not that religion wished : the Christian faith, 
Unlike the timorous creeds of pagan priests. 
Was frank, stood forth to view, invited all, 
To |)rove, examine, search, investigate. 
And gave herself a light to see her by. . 
Mysterious these — because too large for eye 
of man, too long for human arm to mete 

Go to yon mount, whi<h on the north-side stands 
Of New Jerusalem, and lifts its head 
Serene in glory bright, except the hill. 
The Sacred Hill of God, whereon no foot 
Must tread, highest of all creation's walks. 
An 1 overlooking all, in pros[)ect vast, 
From out the ethereal blue — that cliff ascend; 
Gaze thence ; around thee look ; naught now impedes 
Thy view ; yet still thy vision, ninified 
And strong althf>ugh it be, a boT^ndary meets. 
Or rather thou wilt say, tliy vision fails 
To gaze throughout illimitable space, 
And find the end of infinite : and so 
It was with all the ^iysteries of faith ; 
God set them forth unveiled to the full gaze 
Of man, and asked him to investigate ; 
But reason's eye, however purified, 
And on whatever tall, and goodly height 
Of observation jdaced, to comprehend 
Them fully sought in vain. In vain seeks still ; 
But wiser now and humbler, she concludes 
From what she knows already of his love. 
All gracious, which she cannot understand ; 
And gives hiin credit, reverence, jH'aise for all. 

Another feature in the ways of God, 
That wondrous seemed, and made some men complam. 
Was the uneciual gift of worldly things. 



84 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Cxveat was the difference indeed of men 
E^iternally, from beggar to the prince. 
The highest take, anl lowest — and conceive 
The scale between. A noble of the earth, 
One of its great, in splendid mansion dwelt; 
Was robed in silk and gold ; and every day 
Fared sumptuously; was titled, honored, served 
Thousands his nod awaited, and his will 
For law received : whole piovinces his march 
Attended, and his chariot drew, or on 
Their shoulders bore aloft the precious man. 
Millions, abased, fell prostrate at his feet; 
And millions more thundered adoring praise. 
As far as eye could reach, he called the land 
His own, and added yearly to his fields. 
Like tree that of tlie soil took healthy root, 
He grew on every side, and towered on high. 
And over half a nation shadowing wide. 
He spread his ample boughs : air, earth, and sea. 
Nature entire, the brute, anil rational, 
To please him ministered, and vied among 
Themselves, who most should his desires prevent. 
Watching the moving of his rising thoughts 
Attentively, and hasting to fulfil. 
His palace rose and kissed the gorgeous clouds : 
Streams bent their music to his will ; trees sprung j 
Tlie native waste put on luxuriant robes ; 
Anl plains of happy cottages cast out 
Their tenants, and became a hunting-field. 
Before him bowed the distant isles, with fruits 
And spices rare ; the south her treasures biuught J 
The east and west sent ; and the frigid north 
Came with her offering of glossy furs. 
Musicians soothed his ear with airs select. 
Beauty held out her arms ; and every man 
Of cunning skill, and curious device. 
And endless multitudes of liveried wights. 
His pleasure waited with obsequious look. 
And when the wants of nature were supplied, 
And common-place extravagances filled. 



65 



Beyond their asking ; and caprice itself, 

In all its zig-zag appetites, gorged full, — 

The man, new wants, and new expenses planned : 

Nor planned alone : wise, learned, s<.ber men, 

Of cogitation deep, took up his case 

And planned for him new modes of folly wild : 

Contrived new wishes, wants, and wondrous means 

Of spending with despatch : yet after all. 

His fields extended still, his riches grew. 

And what seemed splendor infinite, increased. 

So lavishly upon a single man 

Did Providence his bounties daily shov^er. 

Turn now thy eye, and look on poverty ! 
Look on the lowest of her ragged sons ! 
We find him by the way, sitting in dust ; 
He has no bread to eat, no tongue to ask ; 
No Hmbs to walk ; no home, no house, no friend. 
Observe l)is goblin cheek ; his wretched eye ; 
See how his hand, if any hand he has, 
Involuntary opens, and trembles forth. 
As comes the traveller's foot : and hear his groan, 
His limg and lamentable groan, announce 
The want that gnaws within : severely now, 
The sun scorches and burns his old bald head ; 
The frost now glues him to the chilly earth; 
On him hail, rain, and tempest, rudely beat; 
And all the winds of heaven, in jocular mood. 
Sport with his withered rags, that, tossed about, 
Display his nakedness to passers by, 
And grievously burlesque the human form. 
Observe him yet more narrowly : his limbs. 
With palsy shaken, about him blasted lie ; 
And all his flesh is full of putrid sores, 
And noisome wounds, his bones of racking pains. 
Strange vesture this for an immortal soul ! 
Strange retinue to wait a lord of earth ! 
It seems as Nature, in some surly mood. 
After debate and musing long, had tried. 
How vile and miserable thing her hand 



86 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Could fabricate, tlen made this meagre main. 
A sight Sly full of perfect misery, 
That passengert; tlieir faces turned away. 
An ] hasted to be gone ; and delicate 
And tender women took another path. 

This great disparity of outward things 
Taught many lessons"; but this taught in chief, 
Though learned by few : that God no value set, 
Tliat man shoul 1 mme, on goods of worldly kint 
On transitory, frail, external things, 
Of migiatory, ever changing sort. 
And further taugiu, that in the soul alone, 
The thinking, reasonable, willing soul, 
God ))laced the total excellence of man ; 
And meant iiim evermore to seek it there. 

But stranger still tlie distribution seemed 
Of intellect ; though fewer here complained; 
Each with his share, upon the whole, content. 
One man there was, — and many such you might 
Have met — who never had a dozen thoughts 
In all his life, and never changed their course; 
But toid them o'er, each in its 'customed place. 
From morn till night, from youth till hoary age 
Little above the ox which giazed the field 
His reason rose : so weak his memory. 
The name his mother called him by, he scarce 
Remembered; and his judgment so untaught. 
That what at evening played along the swamp. 
Fantastic, clad in robe of fiery hue, 
He thought the devil in disguise, and fled 
With quive/ing heart, and winged footsteps lume. 
The word philosophy he never heard. 
Or science ; never heard of liberty. 
Necessity ; or laws of gravitation : 
Ana never had an unbelieving doubt. 
Beyond his native vule he never looked; 
But thouglu the visual line, that girt him round, 
Tlie world's extreme : aud tliuu^hc the silver moon. 



BOOK IV. 8? 

That nightly o'er him led her virgin host, 

No broader than his father's shield. He lived — 

Lived where his father lived — died where he died; 

Lived iiappy» died happy, and was saved. 

Be not surprised. He loved, and served his God. 

There was another, large of understanding, 
Of memory infinite, of judgment deep : 
Who knew all learning, and all science knew; 
And all phenomena in heaven and earth. 
Traced to their causes ; traced the labyrinths 
Of thought, association, passion, will ; 
An 1 all the subtile, nice affinities 
Of mattfir, traced; its virtues, motions, laws ; 
And most familiarly and deeply talked 
Of mental, moral, natural, divine. 
Leaving the earth at will, he soared to heaven, 
A nd read the glorious visions of the skies ; 
And to the music of the rolling spheres 
Intelligently listened ; and gazed far back. 
Into the awful depths of Deity. 
Di i all that mind assisted most could do ; 
And yet in misery lived, in misery died. 
Because he wanted holiness of heart. 

A deeper lesson this to mortals taught, 
An 1 nearer cut the branches of their pride : 
That not in mental, but in moral worth, 
God, excellence placed ; and only to the good. 
To virtue granted happiness alone. 

Admire the goodness of Almighty God ! 
He riches gavd, he intellectual strengdi 
To few, and therefore none connnands to be. 
Or rich, or learned ; nor promises reward 
Of peace to tlu-se. On all, He moral worth 
Bestowed ; and !«;)ral tribute asked from all. 
And who that coulil not pay ? who born so poor. 
Of -ntellect so mean, as not to know 
What seemed the best ; and knowing, might not do 1 



88 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

As not to know what God and conscience bade. 
And what they bade not able to obey 1 
And he, who acted thus, fulfilled the law 
Eternal, and its promise reaped of peace; 
Found peace this way alone : who sought it else, 
Sought mellow grapes beneath the icy Pole, 
Sought blooming roses on the cheek of death, 
Sought substance in a world of fleeting shades 

Take one example, to our purpose quite 
A man of rank, and of capacious soul, 
Who riches had, and fame, beyond desire, 
An heir of flattery, to titles born, 
And reputation, and luxurious life : 
Yet, not content with ancestorial name. 
Or to be known because his fathers were. 
He on this height hereditary stood, 
And, gazing higher, purposed in his heart 
To take another step. Above him seemed, 
Alone, the mount of song, the lofty seat 
Of canonized bards ; and tliithervvard. 
By nature taught, and inward melody. 
In prime of youth, he bent his eagle eye. 
No cost was spared. Wiiat books he wished, he read : 
What sage to hear, he heard ; what scenes to see. 
He saw. And first in rambling school-boy days, 
Britannia's mountain-walks, and heath-girt lakes. 
And story-telling glens, and founts, and brooks. 
And maids, as dew-drops pure and fair, his soul 
With grandeur filled, and melody, and love. 
Then travel came, and took him where lie wished 
He cities saw, and courts, and princely nomp; 
And mused alone on ancient mountain-brows ; 
And mused on battle-fields, where valor fought 
In other days ; and mused on ruins grey 
With years ; and drank from old and fabulous wells. 
And plucked the vme that first-born prophets plucked } 
And mused on famous tombs, and on die wave 
Of Ocean mused, and on the desert waste j 
The heavens and earth of every country saw. 



BdoK: IV. 89 

Where'er the old inspiring Genii dwelt. 
Aught that could rouse, expand, refine the soul. 
Thither he went, and meditated there. 

He touched his harp, and nations heard, entranced. 
As some vast river of unfailing source. 
Rapid, exhaustless, deep, his numbers flowed, 
And opened new fountains in the human heart. 
Where fancy halted, weary in her flight, 
In other men, his fresh as morning rose. 
And soared untrodden heights, and seemed at home. 
Where angels bashful looked. Odiers, tho' great. 
Beneath their argument seemed struggling whiles ; 
He from abovedescending, stooped to touch 
The loftiest thonglit; and prouJly stooped, as tho' 
It scarce deserved his verse. With Nature's self 
He seemed an old acquaintance, free to jest 
At will with all her glorious majesty. 
He laid his hand upon " the Ocean's mane," 
And played familiar with his h lary locks. 
Stood on the Alps, stood on the Apennines, 
Anri with the thunder talked, as friend to friend i 
And wove his garland of the lightning's wing. 
In sportive twist — the lightning's fiery wing, 
Which, as the footsteps of the dreadful God, 
Marching upon the storm in vengeance seemed — 
Then turned, and with the gras3hopi)er, who sung 
His evening song, beneath his feet, conversed. 
Suns, moons, and stars, and clouds his sisters were; 
Rocks, mountains, meteors, seas, an 1 winds, and storms. 
His brothers — younger brothers, whom he scarce 
As equals deemed. All passions of all men — 
The wild and tame — the gentle and severe ; 
Ail thoughts, all maxims, sacred and profane ; 
All creeds ; all seasons. Time, Eternity ; 
All that was hated, and all that was dear ; 
All that was hoped, all that was feared by man, 
He tossed about, as tempest, withered leaves, 
Tiien smiling looked upon the wreck he made. 
With terror now he froze the cowering blood ; 



90 THE COURSK OF TIME. 

And now dissolved tlie heart in tenderness : 
Yet would not tremble, would not weep himself. 
But buck into his soul retired, alone, 
Dark, sullen, proud : gazing contemptuously 
On hearts and passions prostrate at his feet. 
So Ocean from the plains, his waves had late 
To desolation swept, retired in pride, 
Exulting in the glory of his might, 
And seemed to mock the ruin he had wTought. 

As some fierce comet of tremendous size, 
To which the stars did reverence, as it passed ; 
So he through learning, and through fancy took 
His flight sui)lime ; and on the loftiest top 
Of Fame's dread mountain sat : not soiled, and worn. 
As if he from the earth had labored up ; 
But as some bird of heavenly plumage fair. 
He looked, which down from higher regions came, 
And perched it there, to see what lay beneath. 

The nations gazed, and wondered much, and praised. 
Critics befire him fell in humble plight; 
Confounded fell ; and made debasing signs 
To catch his eye ; and stretched, and swelled themselves 
'lo bursting nigh, to utter bulky words 
Of admiration vast : and many too, 
Many that aimel to imitate his Hight, 
With weaker wing, unearthly fluttering made. 
And gave abundant sport to after days. 

Great man ! the nations gazed, and wondered much, 
And praised : and many called his evil good. 
Wits wrote in favor of his wickeiluess ; 
And kings to do him honor took delight. 
Tlius full of titles, flattery, honor, fame; 
Beyond desire, beyond ambition full,— 
He died — he died of what 1 Of wretchedness. 
Drank every cup of joy, heard every tramp 
Of fame ; drank early, deeply drank ; drank d'nug' %■ 
Tlwt coininou milliond rak^Jit ba'.-e-queodxjd- ■ On.n itjoil 



BOOK IV, 91 

OC thirst, because there was no more to drink. 

Ills <i;i»il;less, Nature, wooed, embraced, enjoyed, 

I'cll from his arms, aljhorred ; his passions died, 

Dicil, ah Init (h-eary, sohtiirv Pride; 

An I all his sympathies in being disd. 

A:i some ill-guided bark, well ixiilt and tall. 

Which angi'y ti les cast out on desert shore. 

And then, reliri ig, left it there to rot 

Au.l moulder in the winds and rains of heaven; 

So he, cut from the sympathies of life. 

And cast ashore from pleasure's boisterous sn-ge, 

A wandering, weary, worn, an 1 wretched thina'. 

Scorched, and desolate, and blasted soul, 

A gloomy wilderness of dying thought, — 

Repined, and groaned, an I withered from the earth. 

His groanings filled the land, his numbers filled ; 

And yet he seemed ashamed to groan : — Poor man !■— 

Ashamed to ask, and yet lie needed help. 

Proof this, beyond all lingeViiig of doubt. 
That not with nattual o*- mental wealth. 
Was God delighted, or his peace secured; 
That nf)t in natural or mental wealth, 
Was human happiness or grandeur found. 
Attempt how monstrous, and how surely vain ! 
With things of earthly sort, with aught but God, 
With aui^lit but moral excellence, truth, and love. 
To satisfy and fill the immortal soul ! 
Attempt, vain inconceivably I attempt, 
I'o satisfy the Ocean with a drop. 
To marry Immortality to Death, 
And with the unsubstantial Shade of Time, 
To fill the embrace of all Eternity ! 



COURSE OP TIME. 

BOOK V. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK V. 

In this Book the Dard sketches the " Joys of Timo.*» 
Whether h:i|)i>iiiess or niisury preponilerated, and where 
hap|)iiiess rnigiit be found, were subjects of debate anmng 
men. True liapj)iness hud no exciuj^ive locality, hut was 
within tlie reach of all. She always went in company 
with duty. 

Among tiie numerous contributions to this happiness 'vere 
the joys of childhood, the joys: of maternal affection, ll)e 
joys of youthful love, the joys of friendship. The study 
of nature, and contrmphition of earth's scenery, also 
afforded their joys. Joys were fell in anticijiaiions of 
the future ; in recollections of the past ; in repose aftoi 
labor ; even in grief. 

From these sources all men experienced joy ; but the j'ious 
man shared the highest deguie. 

And finally, in earth's history, there came a period whon 
general joy pervaded it. This was the " thousi-nd 
years" of Messiah's reign, foretold by the pri»)h •'s, 
preceded by a terrible contest between the upjiosiug 
powers of Truth and Errui 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK V. 



Praise God, ye servants of the Lord ! praise God, 

Ye angels strong ! praise God, yc sons of men ! 

Praiie him vvlio made, an.l who redeemed your soub; 

Who gave you hope, reflection, reason, will; 

Minis that can pierce eternity remote, 

Ar. I live at once on future, present, past; 

Can speculate on systenjs yet to make. 

An 1 back recoil on ancient days of Time. 

Of Time,' soon past ; soon lost among the shades 

Of buried years. Not so the actions done 

In Time, the deeds of reasonable men ; 

As if engraven with pen of iron grain. 

An 1 laid in flinty rock, they stand unchanged, 

WVitten on the various pages of the past : 

If g.)od, in rosy characters of love ; 

If bad, in letters of vindictive fire. 

God may forgive, but cannot blot them out. 
Systems begin, and end ; eternity 
Rolls on his endless years ; and men absolved 
By mercy from the consequence, forget 
The evil deed ; and God imputes it not : 
But neither systems ending, nor begun ; 



94 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Eternity tliat rolls his endless years 

Nor men absolved, and sanctified, and washed 

By mercy firom the consequf nee ; nor yet 

Forgetiulness ; nor God imputing not. 

Can wash the guilty deed once done, from out 

The faithful annals of the past ; who reads, 

And many read, there finds it; as it was. 

And is, and shall for ever be — a dark. 

Unnatural and loathly moral spot. 

The span of Time was short indeed ; and now 
Three-fourths were past, the last begun, and on 
Careering to its close, which soon we sing : 
But first our promise we redeem, to tell 
The joys of Time — her joys of native growth ; 
And briefly must, what longer tale deserves. 

Wake, dear remembrances ! wake, childhood-days ! 
Loves, friendships, wake ! and wake thou morn, and 



even 



Sun ! with thy orient locks ; night, moon, and stars ! 
And thou, celestial bow ! and all ye woods, 
And hills, and vales ; first trode in dawning life ' 
And hours of holy musing, wake ! wake, eardi ! 
And smiling to remembrance, come ; and bring, 
For thou canst bring, meet argument for song 
Of heavenly harp ; meet hearing for the ear 
Of heavenly auditor, exalted high. 

God gave much peace on earth, much holy joy : 
Oped fountains of perennial spring, whence flowed 
Abundant happiness to all who wished 
To drink : not perfect bliss ; that dwells with us. 
Beneath the eyelids of the Eternal One, 
And sits at his right hand alone : but such. 
As well deserved the name — abundant joy. 
Pleasures, on which the memory of saints 
Of highest glory, still delights to dwell. 

It was, we own, subject of much debate, 
And worthy men stood on opposing sides. 



BOOK V. 95 

Whether the cup of mortal life had more 
Of sour or sweet. Vain question *his, when asked 
In general terms, and worthy to be left 
Unsolved. If most was sour, the drinker, not 
The cup, we blame. Each in himself the means 
Possessed to turn the bitter sweet, the sweet 
To bitter. Hence from out the self-same fount, 
One nectar drank, another draughts of gall. 
Hence, from the self-same quarter of the sky. 
One saw ten thousand angels look and smile ; 
Another saw as many demons frown. 
One discord heard, where harmony inclined 
Another's ear. The sweet was in the taste. 
The beauty in the ej^e, and in the ear 
The melody ; and in the man, — for God 
Necessity of sinning laid on none, — 
To form the taste, to purify the eye, 
A. id tune the ear, that all he tasted, saw. 
Or heard, might be harmonious, sweet, and fair. 
Who would, might groan j who would, might sing for 
joy- 
Nature lamented little. Undevoured 
By spurious appetiLes, she found enough. 
Where 'east was found ; with gleanmgs satisfied. 
Or crumbs, that from the hand of luxury fell ; 
Yet seldom these she ate, but ate the bread 
Of her own industry, made sweet by toil ; 
And walked in robes that her own hand had spuor) 
And slept on down her early rising bought. 
Frugal and diligent in ousiness, chaste 
Aua abstinent, she stored for helpless age, 
And, keeping in reserve her spring-day healtli. 
And dawning relishes of Hfe, she drank 
Her evening cup with excellent appetite; 
And saw her eldest sun decline, as fair 
As rose her earliest morn, and pleased as well. 

Whether in crowds or solitudes, in streets 
Or shady groves, dwelt Happiness, it seems 



96 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

In vain to ask ; her nature maKes it vain, 
Tlio' poets much, and hermits talked and sung 
Of brooks, and crystal f.unts, and weeping dews. 
And myrtle bowers, and solitary vales ; 
And with the nymph made assignations there ; 
And wooed her with tlie love-sick oaten reed; 
And sages too, altlioiigh less positive, 
Advfsed their sons to court her in the shade. 
Delirious bai)ble all ! Was happiness, 
W^as self-approving, God-approving joy. 
In drops of dew, however pure? in gales. 
However sweet 1 in wells, however clear 1 
Or groves, however thick widi verdant shade 1 

True, these were of themselves exceeding fair : 
How iair at morn and even ! worthy the walk 
Of loftiest min i ; and gave, when all witliin 
Was right, a feast of overflowing hlits. 
But weie the occasion, not the cause of joy : 
They waked the native fountains of the soul, 
Which slept before ; an.l stirred the holy tides 
Of feeling up; giving the heart to drink 
From its own treasures, draughts of perfect sweet. 

The Christian faith, which better knew the heart 
Of man — him thither sent for peace ; and thus 
Declared : Who finds it, let him find it there : 
Who finds it not, for ever let him seek 
In vain : 'tis (iod's most holy, changeless will. 

True happiness had no localities ; 
No tones provincial ; no peculiar garb. 
Where duty went, she went ; with justice went; 
And went with meekness, charity, and love. 
Where'er a tear was (hied ; a wounded heart 
Bound up ; i, bruised spirit with the dew 
Of sympathy anointed ; or a pang 
Of hiiuest suffering soothed ; or injury 
Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven ; 
Where'er an evil passion was subdued. 



BOOK V. 97 

Or Virtue's feeble embers fanneil ; where'er 
A sin was heartily abjureJ, an! left; 
Wliere'er a pious act was done, or breathed 
A piuus prayer, or wislie.i a pious wish — 
There was a high an. I holy place, a spot 
Of sacre 1 light, a must religious fane, 
Where Happiness, descending, sat and smiled. 

But these apart. In sacred memory lives 
The morn of life ; first morn of endless days. 
Must juyful m )rn ! nor yet for naught the joy : 
A being of eternal late commenced; 
A young immortal then was born ; and who 
Shall tell wh-it strange variety of bliss 
Burst on the infint soul, when first it looked 
Abroad on God's creation fair, and saw 
The glorious earth, and glorious heaven, and face 
Of min sublime ? an 1 saw all new, anl felt 
All new 1 wliea thou^lit awoke ; thought never more 
To sleep 1 when firsi it saw, heard, reasoned, willed ; 
And triumphed in the warmth of conscious life 1 

Nor happy only ; but the cause of joy. 
Which those who never tastel always mourned. 
What tongue 1 no tongue shall tell what bliss o'erflowef'. 
The mother's tender heart, while round her hung 
The offspring of her love, anJ lisped her name; 
As living jewels dropf unstained from heaven, 
That made her fairer far, an I sweeter seem, 
Th in every ornament of costliest hue. 
An 1 wh ) hath n :>t been ravishe I, as she passed 
With all her playful band of little ones. 
Like L-ma, with her daughters of the sky. 
Walking in matron majesty and grace *? 
All wh) Ivad hearts, here pleasure found : and oft 
Have I, when tired with heavy task, for tasks, 
Were heavy in the worl 1 bel jw, relaxed 
My weary tlioughts among their guiltless sports; 
An 1 led then, by their little hands afield; 
And watched them run and crop tiie tcaiptins Aov/9^ 



98 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Which oft, unasked, they brought me, and bestowed 

With smiling face, that waited for a look 

Of praise, — and answered curious questions, put 

In much simplicity, but ill to solve ; 

And heard their observations strange and new. 

And settled whiles their little quarrels, soon 

Ending in peace, and soon forgot in love. 

And still I looked upon their loveliness ; 

And sought through nature for similitudes 

Of perfect beauty, innocence, and bliss. 

And fairest imagery around me thronged; 

Dew-drops at day-spring on a seraph's locks, 

Roses that bathe about the well of Ufe, 

Young Loves, young Hopes, dancing on Morning cheek. 

Gems leaping in the coronet of love ! 

So beautiful, so full of life, they seemed 

As made entire of beams of angels' eyes. 

Gay, guileless, sportive, lovely, little things ! 

Playing around the den of Sorrow, clad 

In smiles, believing in their fairy hopes. 

And thinking man and woman true ! aU joy, 

Happy all day, and happy all the night ! 

Hail, holy love ! thou word that sums all bliss. 
Gives and receives all bliss, fullest when most 
Thou givest ! spring-head of all felicity. 
Deepest when most is drawn ! emblem of God ! 
O'erflowing most when gi-eatest numbers di'ink ! 
Essence that binds the uncreated Three, 
Chain that unites creation to its Lord, 
Centre to which all being gravitates. 
Eternal, evergrowing, happy Love ! 
Enduring all, hoping, forgiving all ; 
Instead of law, fulfilling every law ; 
Entirely blest, because thou seekst no more, 
Hopest not, nor fearst ; but on tlie present livest. 
And holdst perfection smiling in thy arms. 
Mysterious, infinite, exliaustless Love ! 
On earth mysterious, and mysterious still 
In heaven : sweet chord, tliat harmonizes all 



The harps ot Paradise ! the spring, the well. 
That fills the bowl and banquet of the sky ! 

But why should I to thee of Love divine 1 
Who happy, and not eloquent of Love 1 
Who holy, and, as thou art, pure, and not 
A temple where her glory ever dwells. 
Where burn her fires, and beams her perfect eye 1 

Kindred to this, part of this holy flame, 
Was youthful love- -the sweetest boon of Earth. 
Hail, Love ! first Love, thou word that sums all bliss ! 
The sparkling cream of all Time's blessedness. 
The silken down of happiness complete ! 
Discerner of the ripest grapes of joy. 
She gathered, ami selected with her hand. 
All finest relishes, all fairest sights. 
All rarest odors, all divinest sounds. 
All thoughts, all feelings dearest to the soul ; 
And brought the holy mixture home, and filled 
The heart with all superlatives of bliss. 
But, who would that expound, which words transcends^ 
Must {alk in vain. Behold a meeting scene 
Of early love, and thence infer its worth. 

It was an eve of Autumn's holiest mood. 
The corn fields, bathed in Cynthia's silver light. 
Stood ready for the reaper's gathering hand ; 
And all the Winds slept soundly. Nature seemed. 
In silent contemplation, to adore 
Its Maker. Now and then, the aged leaf 
Fell' from its fellows, rustling to the ground ; 
And, as it fell, bade man think on his end. 
On vale and lake, on wood and mountain high 
With pensive wing outspread, sat heavenly Thought, 
Conversing with itself Vesper looked forth, 
From out her western hermitage, and smiled; 
And up the east, unclouded, rode tlie Moon 
With all her Stars, gazing on earth intense. 
As if she saw some wonder walking there. 



100 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Such v;as the nisrht — so lovely, still, serene; 
When, hy r> hermit th i a tliat on the hill 
Had seen a hundred iiowery ages pass, 
A damsel knesleJ to olVer up her prayer ; 
Her prayer nightly ofFere i, nightly he ird. 
This ancient th )'-n had been the meeting place 
Of love, bef.)re his country's voiue had called 
The ardent youth to fiel is of honor far 
Beyond the wave. And iiither now repaired. 
Nightly, the mai 1; by Go i's all-seeing eye 
Seen only, while she sought this boon alone : — 
Her lover's safety, and his quick return. 
In holy, humble attitude she kneeled ; 
An 1 to her bosom, fair as moon-beam, pressed 
Oul; h m 1, the other lifted up to heaven ; 
Her eye upturned, bright as the star of morn. 
As violet meek, excessive ardor streamed, 
Waiting away her earnest heart to God. 
Her Voice scarce uttered ; soft as Zephyr sighs 
On morning lily's cheek ; tho' soft an 1 low — 
Yet heard in heaven, heard at the mercy-seat. 
A tear drop wan lered on her lovely face ; 
It was a tear of faith, an 1 holy fear. 
Pure as the drops that hang at davvning-time. 
On yon ler willows by the slreaai of life. 
On her the moon looked sledfjstly, the stars. 
That circle nightly round the eternal throne, 
Glanc;ed down, well pleased; and everlasting love 
Gave gracious audiente to her prayer sincere. 

O had her lover seen her thus alone, 
Thus h>ly, wrestling thus, and all for him! 
Nor di 1 he not: for oft-times Providence, 
With unexpected joy the fervent prayer 
0( faith surprise 1 : — returned from I aig delay. 
With gl )ry crowned of righteous acti«>ns won. 
The sacred thorn to meaiory dear, first sought 
Tne youth, an i fjun 1 it at the happy houi-. 
Just when the damsel kneeled herself to pray. 
Wrapt in devotion, pleading with her God, 



BOOK r. 101 

She saw him not, heard not his fo(«ft approach. 

Al' holy iiTiJiges scisined too impure 

To emblem her he saw. A seraph kneeled. 

Beseeching for his ward, before the throne, 

Seeme 1 fittest, pleased hiin best. Sweet was the 

th )ugiu ; 
But sweeter still the kind remembrance came, 
Tiiit she was flesh, and blood, f )rmpd for himself. 
The plighted partner of his tiitme life. 
An 1 as they met, embraced, and sat embowered 
In vv:)o ly ch imliers of tbi' starry night, — 
Spdritsof love ai)oiit them ministered. 
And God approving, blessed the holy joy. 

Nor imrememWered is the hour when friends 
Met ; fiien Is but few on earth, an J thevefjre dear. 
Si)Ught oft, and soog-lit almosl as oft in vain : 
Yet always sought ; so native to the heart, 
So much desire I, and coveted by all. 
Nor won ler thou — thou won ier'st not, nor need'st : 
Mu -h be.iutiful, an I excellent, an 1 f lir 
^Vas seen beneath the sun : but naught was seen 
M )re beautiful, or ex'-ellen", or fair, 
Th III fa;;e of f lithful friend ; fairest when seen 
111 laikest day. And many sounds were sweet, 
M )sl ravishing, an I pleasant to the ear; 
But sweeter none than voice of fiithfal friend; 
SvViiet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm. 
S )aie I re. ne liber, and will ne'er fjiget; 
IVIy early frien Is, frien Is of my evil ilay ; 
Fi-ien Is in my mirth, friends in my misery too; 
Frien is given by God in iU^rcy an I in 1 )ve ; 
3Iy counselors, my comft)rters, and guides; 
Mv joy in g'ief, my sec(m 1 bliss in joy ; 
Companions of my young desires ; in doubt. 
My oracles, my wings in high |)nrsuit. 
O, I re us nber, an 1 will ne'er forget. 
On* meeting spots, our chosen sacred h^nrs ; 
Our burning words, that uttered all the soul; 
Oui* faces beaming vvitli unearthly love ;— 



102 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Sorrow -with sorrow sigliing, hope with hope 
Exulting", heart embracing heart entire. 
As birds of social feather helping each 
His fellow's flight, we soared into the skies. 
And cast the clouds beneath our feet, and earth. 
With all her tardy leaden-footed cares, 
And talked the speech, and ate the food of heaven. 
These I remember, these selectest men ; 
And would their names record — but what avails 
My mention of their name : before the thr me 
They stand illustrious 'mong ihe loudest harps. 
And will receive thee glad, my friend and theirs. 
For all are friends in heaven ; all faithful friends ; 
And many friendships in the days of Time 
Begun, are lasting here, and growing «*ill : 
So grows ours evermore, both theirs ai d mine. 

Nor is the hour of lonely walk forgot. 
In the wide desert, where the view was large. 
Pleasant were many scenes, but most to me 
The solitude of vast extent, untouched 
By hand of art, where nature sowed, heiself, 
And reaped her crops; — ^whose garments were the 

clouds ; 
Whose minstrels, brooks ; whose lamps, the moon and 

stars ; 
Whose organ-choir, the voice of many waters ; 
Whose banquets, morniiij dews ; whose heroes, storms ; 
Whose warriors, mighty winds ; whose lovers, flowers j 
Whose orators, the thunderbolts of God j 
Whose palaces, the everlasting nills ; 
Whose ceiling, heaven's unfathomable blue; 
Anffrom whose rocky turrets battled high. 
Prospect immense spread out on all sides round j 
Lost now between the welkin and the main, 
Now walled with hills that slept above the storm. 

Most fit was such a place for musing men ; 
Happiest sometimes when musing without aim. 
It was ii™'lf»ed a wondrous sort of bliss 



BOOK V. 103 

The lonely bard enjoyed, when forth he walked 
Unpurposed ; stood, and knew not why ; sat do\m. 
And knew not where ; arose, and knew not when ; 
Had eyes, and saw not ; ears, and notliing hoard ; 
And sought — sought neither heaven nor earth — sought 

nought, 
Nor meant to think ; but ran, meantime, thro' vast 
Of visionary things, fairer than aught 
That was ; and saw the distant tops of thoughts. 
Which men of common stature never saw. 
Greater than aught that largest words could hold. 
Or give idea of, to those who read. 
He entered in to Nature's holy place, 
fler inner chamber, and beheld her face 
Unveiled ; and heard unutterable things. 
And incommunicaVjle visions saw : — 
Things then unutterable, and visions then 
Of incommunicable glory bright ; 
But by the lips of after ages formed 
To words, or by their pencil pictured forth : 
Who entering farther in beheld again. 
And heard unspeakable and marvellous things, 
Wliich other ages in their turn revealed ; 
And left to others, greater wonders still. 

The earth abounded much in silent wastes 5 
Nor yet is heaven without its solitudes. 
Else incomplete in bliss, whither who will 
May oft retire, and meditate alone. 
Of God, redemption, holiness, and love : 
Nor needs to fear a setting sun, or haste 
Him home from rainy tempest unforeseen ; 
Or, sighing, leave his thoughts for want of time 

But whatsoever was both good and fair. 
And highest relish of enjoyment gave. 
In inteUectual exercise was found : 
When gazing through the future, present, past, 
Inspired, thought linked to thought, harmonious flowed 
In poetry — the loftiest mood of mind ; 



104 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Or when philosophy the reason led 

Deep thro' the oiitvvarJ circumstance of things j 

An 1 saw the master wheels of Nature move j 

An i travelbJ far alanj tlie enJlass line 

Of certain, ani of proba!>le ; an I made. 

At every step, sdhis nsw discovery, 

1 ivit gave tile soul sweet sense of larger room. 

Hi^li these pinsuits — an I s.xmer to be named 

Deserve I ; at present only named ; again 

To be resumed, and praised in longer verse. 

Abundant an 1 diversifieJ above 
All n I n')sr, were the sources of delight; 
As iiiinite as were the lips that drank ; 
An I to the pare, all innocent an I pure ; 
Tlie si nplest still to wisest men the best. 
On-i mile actiuiintan ;eship with plants and fljwers. 
An I h ippy grew in telling all their names. 
One cl ISS3 I the qa i lru|)e Is ; a third the fowls j 
An )t!i3r f )'jn I in minerals his joy. 
An I I h ive seen a m ui, a w )rthy man, 
In h ippy inool c jnversing with a Hy ; 
An I as he thrjug'i his gl iss, ini le by himself, 
Ba'i :l 1 its w )n Ir jus e/e, an 1 pla.nige fine, 
Fron leaping scarce he kept fjr perfect joy. 

An I from mv pith, I with my frienl have turned, 
A mm of excelbnt snin 1, an I excellent he.irt. 
An 1 cli nbe I tha neigh'oning hill, with arduous step. 
Fetching fr )m listant caii n, or froio the earth 
Di;fging with labor s>re, tne pon lerons stone. 
Which, hiving carriel to the highest top. 
We downward rolled ; an 1 as it strove at first 
Wi'h obst:i3les that see.ne I to matoh its force. 
With feeble crooke 1 motion to and fro 
Wavering, he lOoked with interest most intense. 
An I praye 1 aim )st ; aa 1 as it sathered strength. 
An 1 straightened the current of its furious flow — 
Exulting m the swiftness of its course. 
And rising now with rainbow-bound imtuensa. 



BOOK V. 105 

Leaped down careering o'er the subject plain. 
He clapped his han Is in sign of boun.iless bliss; 
An I laugiie 1 an 1 taike 1, well paid for all his toil : 
An 1 wlien at night the siory was rehearsed, 
Uncoinini>n glory kinlled in his eye. 

An 1 there were too — harp ! lift thy voice on high. 
An I run in rapi 1 numbers o'er the face 
Of Nature's scenery — an 1 tliere were day 
An I niglit ; an i rising suns, an I setting suns ; 
An I (;l.)ii Is, tliat seemed like chariots of saints, 
By fiery c tuisers drawn — as brighjly hued. 
As if the gl )rious, bushy, g;)l len l(»cks 
Of th )as xn I cherubiai, had been shorn off, 
An I on the temples hun ' '' morn and even. 
An 1 rh:^re were aioons, i; ^ .rs, an 1 darkness streaked 
With light ; an 1 voit^etiiK. .c.npest heard secure. 
An I there were seasons coining evermore. 
An I g )ing still, all fair, an I ilways new, 
With 1)1 j>>in, an I fruit, an I tiel Is of hoary grain. 
An I (.here were hills of Hock, an I groves of song; 
An 1 riowery streams, an I gar len walks embowered, 
Where si le by si le the mse and lily bloomed. 
An I sacre I f nints, wil 1 harps, an I moonlight gleus ; 
An I f irests vast, fair lawns, an I Imely oaks ; 
An I little wilhws sipping at the brook : 
()l I vvi^ar I haunts, and dancin^: seats of mirth; 
Gay festive bowers, an I palaces in dust; 
D.iik owlet nooks, and caves, and battled rocks; 
An I win ling vallies, ronfe 1 with pendant shade; 
An 1 tall, and perilous cliffs, that overlooked 
The brea kh of ocean, sleeping on his waves. 
Soun Is, sights, smells, tastes ; the heaven and edrth, 

profuse 
In en iless sweets, above all praise of song : 
For not to use alone did Providence 
Aboun 1, but large example gave to man 
Of grace, and ornament, and splendor rich; 
Suited abundantly to every taste, 
In bird, beast, fish, winged and creeping thing; 



106 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

In herb and flower ; and in the restless change, 
Wliich on the many-colored seasons made 
The annual circuit of the fruitful earth. 

Nor do I aught of earthly sort remember, — 
If partial feeling to my native place 
Lead not my lyre astray, — of fairer view, 
And comelier walk, than the blue mountain-paths. 
And snowy cliffs of Albion renowned ; 
Albion, an isle long blest with gracious laws, 
And giacious kings, and favored much of Heaven ; 
Though yielding oft penurious gratitude. 
Nor do 1 of that isle remember aught 
Of prospect more sublime and beautiful. 
Than Scotia's northern battlement of hills. 
Which first I from my father's house beheld. 
At dawn ol life : beloved in memory still ; 
And standard still of rural imagery : 
What most resembles them, the fairest seems. 
And stirs the eldest sentiments of bliss ; 
And pictured on the tablet of my heart. 
Their distant shapes eternally remain. 
And in my dreams their cloudy tops arise. 

Much of my native scenery appears, 
And presses forward to be in my song ; 
But must not now : for much behind awaits 
Of higher note. Four trees J pass not by, 
Which o'er our house their evening shadow threw :— 
Tlnee ash, and one of elm : tall trees they were. 
And old ; and had been old a century 
Before ray day : none living could say ouglit 
About their youth ; but they were goodly trees : 
And oft I wondered, as I sat and thought 
Beneath their summer shade, or in the night 
Of winter, heai'd the spirits of the wind 
Growling among their boughs, — how they had grown 
So high, in such a rough tempestuous place : 
And when a hapless branch, torn by the blast. 
Fell down, I moiu-ned, as if a friend had fallen. 



BOOK V. 107 

These I distinctly hold in memory still. 
And all the desert scenery around. 
Nor strange, that recollection there should dwell. 
Where first I heard of God's redeeming love ; 
First felt and reasoned, loved and was beloved, 
And lust awoke the harp to holy song. 

To hoar and gi'een there was enough of joy. 
Hopes, friendships, charities, and warm pursuit. 
Gave comfortable flow to youthful blood. 
And there were old remembrances of days, 
When on the glittering dews of orient life. 
Shone sunshine hopes — unfailed, unperjured then • 
And there were childish sports, and school-boy feats. 
And school-boy sports, and earnest vows of love, 
Uttered, when passion's boisterous tide ran high ; 
Sincerely uttered, though but seldom kept : 
And there were angel looks ; and sacred hours 
Of rapture ; hours that in a moment passed. 
And yet were wished to last for evermore : 
And venturous exploits ; and hardy deeds ; 
And bargains shrewd, achieved in manhood's prime; 
And thousand recollections, gay and sweet, 
Which, as the old and veneraljle man 
Approached the grave, around him, smiling, flocked ; 
And breathed new ardor through his ebbing veins ; 
And touched his lips with endless eloquence ; 
And cheered, and much i-efreshed his withered heart. 

Indeed, each thing remembered, all but guilt. 
Was pleasant, and a constant source of joy. 
Nor lived the old on memory alone. 
He in his children hved a second life^ 
With them again took root; sprang with their hopes ; 
Entered into theii' schemes ; partook their fears ; 
Laughed in their mirt'i ; and in their gain grew rich 
Anil sometimes on the eldest cheek was seen 
A smile as hearty as on face of youth. 
That saw in prospect sunny hopes invite, 
Hope's pleasures — sung to harp of sweetest note i 
K 



108 THE COURSE OK TIME. 

Harp, heard with rapture on Britannia's hills J 
With rapture heard by me, in morn of hfe. 

Nor small the joy of rest to mortal men ; 
Rest after labor ; sleep approaching soft. 
And wrapping all tne weary faculties 
In sweet repose. Then Fancy, unrestrained 
By sense or judgment, strange confusion made. 
Of future, present, past ; combining things 
Unseemly, things unsociable in Nature, 
In most absurd communion, laughable, 
Tho' sometimes vexing sore the slumbering soul. 
Sporting at will, she thro' her airy halls — 
With moon-beams paved, and canopied with star? 
And tapestried with marvellous imagery. 
And shapes of glory, infinitely fair. 
Moving and mixing in most wondrous dance — ■ 
Fantastically walked; but pleased so well. 
That ill she liked the judgment's voice severe, 
Which called her home when noisy morn awoke. 
And oft she sprang beyond the bounds of Time, 
On her swift pinion lifting up the souls 
Of righteous men, on high, to God, and heaven, 
Where they belielil unutterable things ; 
And heard the glorious music of the blest. 
Circling the dirone of the Eternal Three } 
And with the spirits unincavtiate took 
Celestial pastime, on the hills of God ; 
Forgetful of the gloomy pass between. 

Some dreams were useless — moved by tuibia counse 
Of animal disorder ; not so all : 
Deep moral lessons some impressed, that naught 
Could afterwards deface. And oft in dreams. 
The master passion of the soul displayed 
liis huge deformity, concealed by day — 
Winning the sleeper to beware, awake. 
And oft in dreams, the reprobate and vile, 
U;jpardoQab!e sinner — as he seemed 
T >pi>;i?n| upba thu perllkAw ^»dgo <:€ Hoil— 



109 



In dreadful apparition, saw before 

His vision pass, the shadows of the damned; 

And s-iw the glare of hollow, cursed eyes. 

Spring from the skirts of the internal night ; 

And saw the souls of wicked men, new dead. 

By devils hearsed Into the fiery gulf; 

And heard the burning of the endless flames ; 

And heard tlie weltering of the waves of wrath; 

And sometimes, too, l)efore his fiiicy, passed 

The Worm that never dies, writhing its folds 

In hideous sort, an 1 with eternal Death 

Held horrid collocjuy ; giving the wretch 

Un velcome eainest of the wo to come. 

Bu these we leave, as unbefitting song, 

Th it promised happy narrative of joy. 

^lut what of all the joys of earth was most 
O/ native growth, most proper to the soil — 
N' c elsewhere known, in worlds that never fell— 
X"^ ;s joy that sprung from disappointed wo. 
Ti e joy in grief; the pleasure after pain ; 
Ftars turned to hopes ; meetings expected not; 
Deliverances from dangerous atiitudes ; 
Better f)r worse ; and best sometimes for worst; 
And all the seeming ill, ending in good — 
A sort of happiness composed, which none 
Has had experience of, but mortal man. 
Yet not to be despised. Look back, and one 
Behold, who would not give her tear for all 
The smiles that dance about the cheek of Mirtli. 

Among the tombs she walks at noon of night. 
In miserable garb of widowhood. 
Observe her yonder, sickly, pale, and sad, 
Ben ling her wasted body o'er the grave 
Of him who was the husband of her youth. 
The moon-beams trembling thro' these ancient yeu'g 
That stand like ranks of mourners round the bed 
Of death, full dismally upon her face ; 
iitx Uttio, Uol^r*', witlicrwl Sice, ;il;nost 



110 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Invisible — so worn away with wo : 

The tread of hasty foot, passing so late, 

Disturbs her not ; nor yet the roar of mirth, 

From neighboring revelry ascending loud. 

She hears, sees naught ; fears naught ; one thought 

alone 
Fills all her heart and soul ; half hoping, half 
Remembering, sad, unutterable thought ! ^ 

Uttered by silence, and by tears alone. 
Sweet tears ! the awful language, eloquent 
Of iulinite affection ; far too big 
For words. She sheds not many now : that grass. 
Which springs so rankly o'er the dead, has drunk 
Already many showers of grief : a drop 
Or two are all that now remain behind. 
And fro'n her eye, that darts strange fiery beams. 
At dreary intervals, drip down her cheek. 
Falling most mournfully from bone to bone. 
But yet she wants not tears : that babe, that hangs 
Upon her bi'east, that babe that never saw 
Its father — he was dead before its birth — 
Helps her to weep, weeping before its time ; 
Taught sorrow by the mother's melting voice. 
Repeating oft the father's sacred name. ^ 

Be not surprised at this exjjense of wo ! 
The man she mourns was a } she called her own : 
The music of her ear, light of her eye ; 
Desire of all her heart ; her hope, her fear : 
The element in which her passions lived — 
Dead now, or dying all. Nor long shall she 
Visit that place of skulls : night after night, 
She wears herself away : the moon-beam now. 
That falls upon her unsubstantial frame, 
i^carce finds obstruction ; and upon her bones. 
Barren as leafless boughs in winter-time. 
Her infant fastens his little hands, as oft, 
Forgetful, she leaves him a while unheld. 
|But look, she passes not away in gloom : 
A light from far illumes her face; a light 
IThat comes beyond the moon, beyond tlie sun— 



BOOK V. Ill 

The light of truth divine ; the glorious hope 

Of resurrection at the promised morn, 

And meetinp-s then which ne'er shall part again. 

Indulge another note of kindred tone, 
Where grief was mixed with melancholy joy. 

Our sighs were numerous, and profuse our tears ; 
For oiie, we lost, was lovely, and we loved 
Her much : fresh in our memory, as fresh 
As yesterday, is yet the day she died. 
It was an April day ; and blithely all 
The youth of nature leaped beneath the sun, 
And promised glorious manhood ; and our hearts 
Were glad, and round them danced the lightsome blood. 
In healthy merriment — when tidings came, 
A child was born ', and tidings came again. 
That she who gave it birth was sick to death. 
So swift trod sorrow on the heels of joy ! 
We gathered round her bed, and bent our knees 
In fervent supplication to the Throne 
Of Mercy : and pe-fumed our prayers with sighs 
Sincere, and penitential tears, and looks 
Of self-abasement ; but we sought to stay 
An angel on the earth ; a spirit ripe 
For heaven ; and Mercy, in her love, refused : 
Most mercifnl, as oft, when seeming least ! 
Most gracious when she seemed the most to frown ! 
The room I well remember ; and the bed 
On which she lay ; and all the faces too. 
That crowded dark and mournfully around. 
Her father there, and mother bending stood. 
And down their aged cheeks fell many drops 
Of bitterness ; her husband, too, was there. 
And brothers ; and they wept — her sisters, too. 
Did weep and sorrow comfortless ; and I, 
Too, wept, tho' not trt weeping given : and all 
Within the house was dolorous and sad. 
This I remember well ; but better still, 
I Jo remember, and will ne'er forget 



112 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The dyinjf eye — that eye alone was bright, 

An 1 hrigliter grew, as nearer death approached: 

As 1 h ive seen the gentle little flower 

Look fairest in the silver beam, which fell 

Reflecte.l from the thun ler cloud that soon 

Came down, an 1 o'er the deseri scattered far 

An 1 wi le its loveliness. She made a sign 

To bring her babe — 'twap brought, and by her placed. 

She looked upon its face, that neither smiled 

Nor wept, nor knew who gazed upon't, and laid 

Her him 1 upon its little breast, and sought 

For it, vvitii look that seemed to penetrate 

The heavens— unutteraiile b'essings — such 

As Go 1 to dying parents only granted, 

For infants left behin I them in the world. 

" God keep my child," we heard her say, and heard 

No more : the Angel of the Covenant 

Was come, and faithful to his promise =tood 

Prepared to walk with her 'duo' death's dark vale. 

And naw her eyes grew bright, and brighte: still, 

Too bright f)r ours to look upon, suffused 

With many tears, an 1 cl isad widuait a cloud. 

They set as sets the morning star, which g )es 

Not down behin 1 the darkened west, noi hides 

Obscure 1 among the tempests of the sky. 

But melts away into the light of heaven. 

Loves, friendships, hopes, an 1 dear remembrances — 
The kin I embracings of the heart — and hours 
Of ha])py thought — and smiles coming to tears — 
And glories of the heaven an 1 starry cope 
Above, and glories of the earth beneath — 
These were the ''•->vb that wan lered through the gloom 
Of mortal life — wells of the wilderness; 
Kedeeinm^ features in the face of Time ; 
Sweet dr(jps, that made the mix'-d cup of Earth 
A palatable draugiit — too bitter else. 

About the joys and pleasures of the world. 
This (juestion was not seldom in debate — 
Whether the righteous man, or sinner, had 



BOOK V. 113 

The greatest shaif, an! ir^li.shed them the most 1 

Truth gives the answer thus, gives it distinct, 

i\or needs to reason lung : The righteous man. 

For what \v:is he denied of earthly growth, 

Worthy the name of goovd ? Truth answers — Nought. 

Had he not appetites, and sense, and will 1 

Might he not eat, if Providence allowed. 

The finest of t!ie wheat ">. Might he not drink 

The choicest wine "? True, he was temperate ; 

But then was temperance a foe to peace 1 

Miglu he not rise, and clothe himself in gold 1 

Ascen I, and stand in palaces of kings 1 

True, he was honest still, and charitable : 

Were then these virtues foes to human peace ? 

Might he not do exploits, and gain a name'? 

Most true, he trod not down a fellow's right. 

Nor walked up to a throne on skulls of met? ; 

Were justice, then, and mercy, foes to peace 1 

Had he not friendships, loves, and smiles, and hopes "s 

Sat not around his table sons and daughters'? 

Was not his ear with music pleased ^ his eye 

With light! his nostrils with perfumes 1 his lips 

With pleasant relishes 1 grew not his herds 1 

Fell not the rains upon his meadows 1 reaped 

He not his harvests '? and did not his heart 

Revel at will thro' all the charities 

And sympathies of nature unconfined 1 

And were not these all sweetened, and sanctified 

By dews of ho!in;;3s shed from above 1 

Might he not walk thro' Fancy's airy halls 1 

Might he not History's ample page survey 1 

Might he not, finally, explore the depths 

Of mental, moral, natural, divine 1 

But why enumerate thus ! One word enough 

There was no joy in all created things, 

No drop of sweet, that turned not in the end 

To sour, of which the righteous man did not 

Partake — partake, invited by the voice 

Of God, his Father's voice — who ^ave hira all 

His heart's desire. And o'er the sinner 



114 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The Christian had this one advantage mor<». 
That when his earthly pleasures failed, and fail 
They always did to every soul of man, 
He sent his hopes on high, looked up, and reached 
His sickle forth, and reaped the fields of heaven. 
And plucked the clusters from the vines of God. 

Nor Avas the general aspect of the world 
Always a moral waste : a time there came, 
Tiio' ffnv believed it e'er should come, a time 
Typed by die Sabbalh day recurring once 
In seven ; and by the year of rest indulged 
Septennial to the lands on Jordan's banks : 
A time foretold by Judah's bards in words 
Of fire : a time, seventh part of time, and set 
Before tlie eighth and last — the Sabbath day 
Of a'J t!ie eartli — when all had rest and peace. 
Before its coming many 1o and fro 
Ran; ran from various cause; by many sent 
From various cause ; upiight, and crooked both. 
Some sent, and ran for love of souls sincere J 
And more at instance of a holy name. 
With godly zeal much vanity was mixed ; 
And circuinstance of gaudy civil pomp ; 
And speeches buying praise for praise ; and lists. 
And endless scrolls, surcharged with modest names 
That sought the public eye ; and stories, told 
In quackish phrase, that hurt their credit, even 
When true — combined with wise and prudent means. 
iVIuch wheat, much chaff, nmch gold, and much alloy : 
But God wrought with the '\vhole---wrought most with 

wiiat 
To man seemed weakest menns — and brought result 
Of good from good and evil both ; and breathed 
Into the withered nations breatii and lite ; 
The breath and life of fiberty aud truth. 
By means of knowledge breathed into the soul. 

Then was the evil day of tyranny ! 
Of kingly and of priestly tyranny. 



BOOK V. 115 

That bruised the nations long. As yet, no state 

Beneath the heavens had tasted fieedom's wine, 

Though loud cf freedom was tlie talk of all. 

Some groaned more deeply, being heavier tasked ', 

Some wrought wiih straw, and some without ; but all 

Were slaves, or meant to be ; for rubers still. 

Had been of equal minJ, excepting tew. 

Cruel, rapacious, tyrannous, and vile, 

And had with equal shoulder propped the Beast 

As yet, the Church, the holy spouse of God, 

In members few, had wandered in her weeds 

Of mourning, persecuted, scorned, reproached, ^^ 

And buffeted, and killed ; in members few, - 

Though seeming many whiles ; then fewest, oft. 

When seeming most. Slie still had hung her harp 

Upon the willow-tree, and sighed, and wept 

From age to age. Satan began the war. 

And all his angels, and all wicked men. 

Against her fougUt by wile, or fierce attack, 

Six thousand years ; but fought in vain. She stood. 

Troubled on every side, but not distressed ; 

Weeping,*but yet despairing not ; cast down. 

But not destroyed : for she upon the palms 

Of God was graven, and precious in his sight. 

As apple of his eye ; aod, like the bush 

On Midia's mountain seen, burned unconsumed ; 

But to the wilderness retiring, dwelt. 

Debased in sackcloth, and forlorn in tears. 

As yet had sung the scarlot-colored Whore, 
Who on the breast of civil power reposed 
Her harlot head, (the Church a harlot then, 
Wiien first she wedded civil power,) and drank 
The blood of martyred saints, — whose priests were 

lords. 
Whose coffers held the gold of every land. 
Who held a cup of all pollutions full, 
W'.io with a double horry the people pushed. 
And raised her forehead, full of blasphemy, 
Above the holy God, usurpiyg oft 



116 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Jehovah's incommnnicable names. 
Tlie nations had been dark ; tlie Jews had pined. 
Scattered without a name, beneath the Curse ; 
War had abounJed, Satan rage;!, -incliained ; 
And earth had still been black with moral gloom. 

But now the cry of men oppressed went up 
Before the Lord, and to remembrance came 
The tears of ail his saints, their tears, an 1 groans. 
Wise men had rea.l the number of the name ; 
The prophet-years had roiled ; the time, and times. 
An I half a time, were now fulfilled complete; 
The seven fierce vials of the wrath of God, 
Poured by seven angels strong, were shetl abroad 
Upon the earth, an i emptied to the dregs; 
The propiiecy for confirmation stood ; 
And ail was ready fur the sword of God. 

The righ*<?ous saw, and fled without delay. 
Into the chambeis of Omnipotence. 
The wicked in(K;ked, an i sought for erring cause, 
To satisfy the dismal state of things ; 
The public credit gme, the fear in time 
Of peace, the starving want in time of wealth. 
The insurrection muttering in the streets, 
An 1 pallid consternation spreading wide ; 
And leagues, though holy termed, first ratified 
In hell, on purpose made to under-prop 
Iniquity, and crush the sacred truth. 

Meantime, a inlgFtty angel stood in heaven. 
And cried alou.l, " Assrciate now yourselves, 
Yc princes, potentates, and .nen of war. 
An 1 mitred heads, associate now yourselves. 
An! be dispersed; embattle, and be b.oken. 
Gird on jou- armor, an 1 l)e dashed to duot. 
Take coiinsel,and it shall l;ei)rot.ght to iiau;rht 
Speak, and it shall nut stand." And sudJenly 
The armies of the saints, imbannered, stood 
On Zion hill ; and with thsm angela stood 



BOOK V. 117 

In squadron bright, and chariots of fire ; 

An J with them stood the Lird, clad Hke a man 

Of war, an 1 to the sound of tliup ler, led 

The battle on. Earth shook, the king loms shook. 

The Beast, the lying Seer, doininions, fell ; 

Thrones, tyrants fell, confnni led in the dust, 

Sc^attered and driven bef )re the breath of God, 

As ch iff of suiTTuer threshing-door, bef re 

Th<^ wind. Three days the battle wasting slew. 

The sword was full, the arrow drunk with blood ; 

And to the supper of Almighty God, 

Spren 1 in Hamonih's vale, the fowls of heaven, 

An I every beast, invite I, came, and fed 

On captains' flesh, and drank the hlood of kings. 

An I, lo ! another angel s^t od in heaven. 
Crying al )U I with mighty voice, " Fallen, fallen. 
Is Babylon the Great, to rise no more. 
Rejoice, ye prophets ! over her rejoice. 
Apostles ! h >ly men, all saints, rejoice ! . 
An 1 gl >ry give to Go 1, an I to the Lamb." 
An I all the armies of disburdened earth. 
As voice of many waters, an 1 as voice 
Of thun lerings, and voice of multitudes, 
Answered, Amen. And every hill and rocK., 
An I sea, an I every beast, answered, Au.dn. 
Europa answered, an 1 the farthe.-t bounds 
Of wooly Chili, Asia's fertile coasts. 
And Afric's burning wastes, answered. Amen. 
And Heaven, rejoicing, answered back. Amen. 

Not so the wicked. They afar were heard 
l^amenting. Kings, who drank her cup of whoredoms 
Captains, inl admirals, and mighty men, 
VViio lived deliciously ; and merchants, rich 
With merrhan lise of gold, aii;l wine, and oil; 
And those who traded in the souls of men. 
Known by their gaudy robes of priestly pomp ;— 
All these afar ofl" stood, crying, Alas ! 
Alas ? atid wept, and gnashed their teeth, and groaned ; 



118 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And, with the owl that on her ruins sat, 
Made dolorous concert in the ear of Night. 
And over her again ^he Heavens rejoiced. 
And Earth returned again the loud response. 

Thrice happy days ! thrice blessed the man who saw 
Their dawn ! The Church and State, that long had held 
Unholy intercourse, were now divorced ; 
Princes were righteous men, judges upright ; 
And first, in general, now- -for in the worst 
Of times there were some honest seers — the priest 
Sought other than the fleece among his flocks. 
Best paid when God was honored most ; and hke 
A cedar, nourished well, Jerusalem grew, 
And towered on high, and spread, and flourished fair; 
And underneath her boughs the nations lodged. 
All nations lodged, and sung the song of peace. 
From the four winds, the Jews, eased of the Curse, 
Returned, and dwelt with God in Jacob's land. 
And drank of Sharon ana of Carmel's vine. 
Satan was bound, though bound, not banished quite. 
But lurked about the timorous skirts of things, 
111 lodged, and thinking whiles to leave the earth. 
And with the wicked, — for some wicked were, — 
Held midnight meetings, as the saints were wont. 
Fearful of day, who once was as the sun. 
And worshipped more. The bad, but few, became 
A taunt, and hissing now, as heretofore 
The good ; and, blushing, hasted out of s'lghi. 
Disease was none ; the voice of war, forgot ; 
The sword, a share ; a pruning-hook, the spear. 
Men grew and multiplied upon the earth. 
And filled the city and the waste ; and Death 
Stood waiting for the lapse of tardy Age, 
That mocked him long. Men grew and multiplied. 
But lacked not bread ; for God his promise brought 
To mind, and blessed the land with plenteous rain, 
And made it blessed, for dews, and precious things 
Of her^ven, and blessings of the deep beneath, 
And blessings of the sun, and moon, and fruits 



BOOK V. 119 

Of day and nlglit, and blessings of tlie vale. 
And precious things of the eternal hills. 
And all the fulness of perpetual spring. 

The prison-house, where chained felons pined, 
Thi-ew open his ponderous doors, let in the light 
Of heaven, and grew into a Church, where God 
Was worshipped. None were ignorant, st-Itish none. 
Love took the place of law ; where'er you met 
A man, you met a friend, sincere and true. 
Kind looks foretold as kind a heart within ; 
Words as they sounded, meant ; and promises 
Were ma.i\e to be performed. Thrice happy days \ 
Philosophy was sanctified, and .saw 
Perfections that she thought a fable, long. 
Revenge his dagger dropped, and kissed the hand 
Of Mercy ; Anger cleared his cloudy brow, 
And sat with Peace ; Envy grew red, and smiled 
On Worth ; Pride stooped, and kissed Humihty j 
Lust washed his miry hands, and, wedded, leaned 
On chaste Desire ; and Falsehood laid aside 
His many-folded cloak, and bowed to Truth; 
And Treachery up from his mining came, 
And walked above the ground with righteous Faith ; 
And Covetousness unclenched his sinewy hand. 
And oponed his door to Charity, the fair ; 
Hatred was lost in Love ; and Vanity, 
Widi a good conscience pleased, her feathers cropped j 
Sloth in the morning rose with Industry ; 
To Wi dom Folly turned ; and Fashion turned 
Deception off, in act as good as word. 
The hand that held a whip was lifted up 
To bless ; slave was a word in ancient books 
Met, only ; every man was free ; and all 
Feared God, and served him day and night in love. 

How fair the daughter of Jerusalem then ! 
How gloriously from Zion Hill she looked ! 
Clothed with the sun, and in her train the moon. 
And on her head a coronet of stars, 
9 



120 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

And girdling round her waist, with heavenly grace* 
The bow of Mercy iiiight ; and in her hand, 
ImmanuePs cross, her sceptre and her hope. 

Desire of every land I the nations came, 
And worshipped at her feet ; all nations came. 
Flocking hke doves : Cokimba's painted tribes, 
That from Magellan to the frozen Bay, 
Beneath the Arctic, dwelt ; and drank the tides 
Of Amazona, prince of earthly .-treanis; 
Or slept at noon beneath the giant shade 
Of Andes' mount ; or, roving northward, heard 
Nigara sing, from Erie's billow down 
To Frontenac, and hun-ted thence the fur 
To Labrador : and Afric's dusky swarms, 
That from Morocco to Angola dwelt. 
And drank the Niger from his native wells. 
Or roused the lion in Numidia's groves ; 
The tribes that sat an)ong the fabled cliffs 
Of Atlas, looking to Atlanta's wave ; 
With joy and melody, arose and came. 
Zara awoke and came, and Egypt came, 
Casting her idol gods into tlie ^ ile. 
Black Ethiopia, that, shadowless, 
Beneatli the Tonid Ijurned, arose and came. 
Dauma and Medra, and the pirate tribes 
Of Algeri, with incense came, and pure 
Of;erings, annoying now the seas no more. 
Tiie silken tribes of Asia, flocking, came, 
Innuiiierous : Ishmael's wandering race, that rode 
On camels o'er the spicy tract thut lay 
From Persia to the KeJ Sea coast ; the king 
Of broad Cathay, with mimbeis infinite. 
Of many lettered casts ; and all the tribes 
That dwelt from Tigris to the Ganges' wave, ■ 
And worshipped fire, or Brahma, fabled god; 
Cashmeres, < "ijcassians. Banyans, tenJp'- race ! 
That swept the insect from their path, and lived 
On herbs and fruits ; and those who peacelul dwelt 
Akwjg tile shiidy a^tmue tiiat gti-etchai 



BOOK V. 121 

From Agra to Lahore ; and all the hosts 

That owned the Crescent late, deluded i)ng; 

The Tartar hordes, that roaine I from Oby's bank, 

Ungoverned, southw ird to the wondrous Wall. 

The tribes of Europe came : the Greek, redeemed 

Fi'.m Turkish thrall, the Spaniard came, and Gaul» 

And Britain with her ships, an 1, on his sl:^ Ige, 

The Laplander, that nigiitly watched the bear 

Circling the Pole ; an i those who saw the flames 

Of Hecia burn the drifted snow ; the Russ, 

Long whiskered, and ecjuestrian Pole ; an 1 those 

Who drank the Rhine, or lost the evening sun 

Behind the Alpine towers ; an 1 she that sat 

By Arno, classic stream; Venice and Rome, 

Head quarters long of sin ! first guileless now. 

An 1 meaninsf as she seemed, stretched forth her hands 

And all the isles of ocean rose an I came. 

Whether they heard the roll of banished tides, 

Antipo les to Albion's wave, or watched 

Tl)8 Moon, ascending chalky Teneriffe, 

An 1 with Atlanta holding nightly love. 

The Sun, the Moon, the Constellations, came : 

Thrice twelve an 1 ten that watched t!ie Antarctic sleef. 

Twice six that near the Ecliptic dwelt, thrice twelve 

An I one, th^t witli the Streamers danced, and saw 

The Hyperborean ice guarding the Pole. 

The East, the West, the South, and snowy North, 

Rejoicing met, and worshifjped reverently 

Befon the Lord, in Zion's holy hill; 

And all the places round about v.ore blessed. 

The animals, as once in Eden, lived 
In peace. The wolf dwelt with the lamb, the bear 
Anl leopard with the ox. With looks of love. 
The tiger and the scaly crocodile 
Together met, at Gambia's palmy wave. 
Perched on the eagle's wing, the bird of song. 
Singing, arose, and visited the sun ; 
Anl with the falcon sat the gentle lark. 
TUe little diild leaped from liia mother's arms* 



122 THE COURSE OF TIMK. 

And stroked the crested snake, and rolled unliurt 
Among his speckled waves, and wislied him homSj 
And sauntering school-boys, slow returning, playc* 
At eve about the lion's den. and wove. 
Into his shaggy mane, fantastic flowers. 
-To m^et the husbandman, early abroad, 
Hasted the deer, and- waved its woody head ; 
And round his dewy steps, the hare, unscared. 
Sported; and toyed familiar with his dog. 
The flocks and herds, u'er hill and valley 
Exulting, cropped the ever-budding herb. 
The desert blossomed, and the barren sung. 
Justice and Mercy, Holiness and Love, 
Among the people walked, Messiah reigned. 
And Earth kept Jubilee a thousand years. 



COURSE OF TIME- 



BOOK VI. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK VI. 

At the opening of the Book, tlie bard glances at the final 
destruction of the Earth, as if the astonishing change 
were actually again taking place und-^r his eye. But, 
checking himself, lie proceeds to describe the years 
which followed the millenial rest 

Ungodliness again abounded. Amljition and love of ease, 
principles which had always struggled for the mastery 
of man, regained their ascendency. Every form of sin, 
which had existed before the reign of Messiah, was 
renewed, and new forms were invented. The age 
was, however, enlightened and polished, and the uni 
versal contempt of God was wholly wilful. 

In the mean time, strange phenomena and disasters gave 
presage of Earth's approaching dissolution. JMen dis- 
turbed, not reformed, inquired the meaning in alarm ; 
but soon forgot the wliole in their guilty pleasures ; and 
Earth hasted to fill up the measure of her wickedness. 

Here the Bard pauses in his narrative, as the numerous 
occupants of heaven suspend their various employ- 
ments to join in an evening hymn of praise All are 
represented as turning towards the unveiled Godhead, 
while the sainted Isaiah takes the harp, and, standing 
before the throne, utters the holy song. At its close, 
the thousands infinite, who ' circling standj bowing 
afar,' devoutly respond their assent. 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK VI. 



Resume thy tone of wo, immortal Harp ! 

The song of mirth is past, the Jubilee 

[s ended, and the sun begins to fade ! 

Soon passed, for Happiness counts not the hours. 

To her a thousand years seem as a day; 

A day, a thousand years to Misery. 

Satan is loose, and Violence is heard, 

And Riot in the street, and Revelry 

Intoxicate, and Murder, and Re\enge. 

Put on your armour now, ye righteous ! put 

The helmet of salvation on, and gird 

Your loins about with truth ; add righteousness. 

And add the shield of faith, and take the sword 

Of God — awake and watch ! — The day is near. 

Great day of God Almighty and the Laiab ! 

The harvest of the earth is fully ripe ; 

V^engeance begins to tread the great wine-press 

Of rierceness and of wrath ; and Mercy pleads, 

Mercy that pleaded long, she pleads — no more ! 

Whence comes that darkness 1 vhence those yells 

ofvvol 
What thunderings are these that shake the world 1 
Why fall the lamps from heaven as blasted %a 1 



124 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Why tremble righteous men 1 why angels pale 1 

Why is all fear 1 what has become of hope 1 

God comes ! God in his car of vengeance comes !— 

Hark ! louder on the blast, come hollow shrieks 

Of dissolution ! in the fitful scowl 

Of night, near and^more near, angels of death 

Incessant flap their deadly wii.gs, and roar 

Through all the fevered air ! the mountains rock, 

The moon is sick, and all the stars of heaven 

Burn feebly ! oft and sudden gleams the fire. 

Revealing awfully the brow of Wiath ! 

The Thunder, long and loud, utters his voice. 

Responsive to the Ocean's troubled growl! 

JNiglu comes, last night, the long, dark, dark, dark 

night. 
That has no morn beyond it, and no star ! 
No eye of man hath seen a night like this ! 
Heaven's tramjiled Justice girds itself for fight' 
Earth, to thy knees, and cry for mercy ! cry 
With earnest heart, for diou art growing old 
And hoary, unrepented, unforgiven ! 
And all thy glory mourns ! The vintage mourns ! . 
Bashan and Carinel, mourn and weep ! and mourn. 
Thou Lebanon ! with all thy cedars, mourn. 
Sun ! glorying in thy strength from age to age, 
So long observant of thy hour, put on 
Thy weeds of wo, and tell the Moon to w-eep ; 
Utter thy grief at mid-day, morn, and even ; 
Tell all the nations, tell the Clouds that sit 
About the portals of the east and west, 
And wanton with thy golden locks, to wait 
Thee not to-morrow, for no morrow comes ! 
Tell men and women, tell the new-born child. 
And every eye that sees, to come, and see 
Thee set behind Eternity, for thou 
Shalt go to bed to-night, and ne'er awake ! 
Stars ! walking on the pavement of the sky, 
Out-sentinels of heaven, watching the earth, 
Cease dancing now ; your lamps are growing dim, 
Tour graves are dug among the dismal clouds, 



BOOK VI. 125 

And angels are assembling round your bier ! 
Orion, mourn ! an.] Mazzaroth, and thou, 
Arcturus I mourn, with all thy northern sons. 
Daughters of Pleiades ! that nightly shed 
Sweet influence, and thou, fariest of stars ! 
Eye of the morning, weep ! and weep at eve ! 
Weep setting, now to rise no more, " and flame 
On forehead of the dawn" — as sung the bard. 
Great bard ! who used on Earth a seraph's lyre, 
Whi>se numbers wan iered through eternity. 
And gave sweet foretaste of the heavenly harps ! 
Minstrel of sorrow ! native of the dark. 
Shrub-loving Philomel, that wooed the Dews, 
At midnight from their starry beds, and, charmed. 
Held them around thy song till dawn awoke, 
Sad bird ! pour through the gloom thy weeping song. 
Pour all thy dying melody of grief, 
And with the turtle spread the wave of wo ! 
Spare not thy reed, for thou shalt sing no more ! 

Ye holy bards ! — if yet a holy bard 
Remain, — what chord shall serve you now ! what harp ! 
What harp shall sing the dying Sun asleep, 
And mourn behind the funeral of the IMoon ! 
What harp of boundless, deep, exha-istless wo. 
Shall utter forth the groanings of the damned ! 
And sing the obsequies of wicked souls ! 
And wail their plunge in the eternal fire ! — 
Hold, lioLl your hands ! hold, angels ! — God laments. 
And draws a cloud of mourning round his throne ! 
The Organ of Eternity is mute ! 
And there is silence in tlie Heaven of Heavens ! 

Daughters of beauty ! choice of beings made ! 
Much [braised, much blamed, much loved ; but fairer far 
Than aught beheld, than aught imagined else 
Fairest, and dearer than all eUe most dear ; 
Light of the darksome wilderness ! to Time 
As stars to night, whose eyes were spells that held 
The passenger forgetful of his way 



126 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Whose steps were majesty, whose words were song. 

Whose smiles wi e hope, whose actions, perfect grace» 

Whose love, t^e solace, glory, and delight 

Of man, his boast, hi-- riches, his renown; 

When found, sufficient iiliss ! when lost, despair !— 

Stars of creation ! images of love ! 

Break up the fountains of your tears, your tears. 

More eloquent than learned tongue, or lyre 

Of purest note ! your sunny raiment stain, 

Put dust upon your heads, lament and weep, 

And utter all your minstrelpy of wo ! 

Go to, ye wicked, weep and howl ; for all 
That God hath written against you is at hand. 
The cry of Violence hath reached his ear, 
Heli is prepared, and Justice whets his sword. 
Weep all of every name ! Begin the wo. 
Ye woods, and tell it to the doleful winds; 
And doleful winds, wail to the howling hills ; 
And howling hills, mourn to the dismal vales ; 
And dismal vales, sigh to the sorrowing brooks ; 
And sorrowing brooks, weep to the weeping strea.Ta ; 
And weeping st.'-eam, awake the groaning deep ; 
And let the instrument take up the song. 
Responsive to the 'oice, harmonious wo ! 
Ye Heavens, great arch-way of the universe. 
Put sackclotli on ; and Ocean, clothe thyself 
In garb of widowhood, and gather all 
Thy waves into a groan, and utter it, 
Long, loud, deep, piercing, d'^lorous, immense! 
The occasion asks it ! — Nature dies, and God 
And angels come to lay her in the grave ' 

But we have overleaped our theme ; behind, 
A little season waits a verse or two. 
The yearb that followed the millennial rest. 
Bad years they were ; and first, as signal sure. 
That at the core religion was diseased, 
The sons of Levi strove again for place. 
And eminence, and names of swelling pomp 



127 



Setting their feet upon the people's neck, 

And slumbering in the lap of civil power. 

Of civil power again tyrannical : 

And second sign, sure sign, whenever seen. 

That holiness was dying in a land, 

The Sabbath was profaned and set at naught ; 

The honest seer, who spoke the truth of God 

Plainly, was left with empty walls ; and roimd 

The frothy orator, wlio busked jiis tales 

In quackish pomp of noisy words, the ear 

Tickhng, but leaving still the heart unprobed. 

The judguieiit uninformed, — numbers iuunense 

Flocked, gaping wide, with passions high inflamed; 

And on the way returning, heated, home, 

Of elofjuence, and not of truth, conversed — 

Mean eloquence that wanted sacred truth. 

Two principles from the beginning strove 
In human nature, still dividing man, — 
Sloth and activity ; the lust of praise. 
And indolence that rather wished to sleep. 
And not unfrequently in the same mind 
They dubious contest held ; one gaining now. 
And now the other crowned, and both again 
Keeping the field, with equal combat fought. 
Muck different was dieir voice. Ambition called 
To action. Sloth invited to repose. 
Ambition early rose, and, being up. 
Toiled ardently, and late retired to rest ; 
Sloth '.ay till mid-day, turning on his couch, 
Like ponderous door upon its weary hinge. 
And, having rolled him out with much ado. 
And many a dismal sigh, and vain attempt. 
He sauntered out, accoutred carelessly, — 
With half-oped, misty, unobservant eye. 
Somniferous, that weiglied the object down 
On which its burden fell, — an hour or two, 
Then with a groan retired to rest again. 
The one, whatever deed had been achieved. 
Thought it too little, and too small the praise J 



128 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The other tried to think,— for thinking so 
Answered his purpose best, — that wliat of great 
Mankind could do had been already done ; 
And therefore laid liiin calmly down to sleep. 

Different in mode, destructive both alike. 
Destructive always indolence ; and love 
Of fame destructive always too, if less 
'^'--.n praise of God it sought, content with less : 
.ven then not current, if it sought his praise 
From other motive than resistless love ; 
Though base, main-spring of action in the world ; 
And, under name of vanity and pride, 
Was greatly practised on by cunning men. 
It opened the niggajii's purse, clothed nakedness. 
Gave beggars food, and threw the Pharisee 
Upon his knees, and kept him long in act 
Of prayer ; it spread the lace upon the fop. 
His language trimmed, and planned his curious gait 
It stuck the feather on the gay coquette, 
And on her finger laid the heavy load 
Of jewellery ; it did— what did it not 1 
The gospel preached, the gospel paid, and sent 
The gospel ; concjuered nations, cities built, 
Measured the furrow of the field with nice 
Directed share, shaped bulls, and cows, and rams. 
And threw the ponderous stone ; and pitiful. 
Indeed, and much against the grain, it di-agged 
The stagnant, dull, predestinated fool, 
Through learning's halls, and made him labour much 
Abortively, though sometimes not unpraised 
He left the sage's chair, and home returned. 
Making his simple mother think that she 
Had borne a man. In schools, designed to root 
Sin up, and plant the seeds of holiness 
In youthful minds, it held a signal place. 
The httle infant man, by nature proud. 
Was taught the Scriptures by the love of 
And grew religious as he grew hi fame. 
And thus the principle, which out of heaven 



BOOK VI. 129 

The devil threw, and threw him down to hell. 

And keeps him there, was made an instrument 

To moralize and sanctify mankintl, 

And in their hearts beget humiUty ; 

With what success it needs not now to say. 

Destructive both we said, activity 
And sloth : behold the last exemplified. 
In literarj- man. Not all at once, 
He yielded to the soothing voice of sleep ; 
But, having seen a bough of laurel wave. 
He effort made lo climb; anl frieuds, and even 
Himself, talked of his greatness, as at hand. 
And, prophesying, drew his future life. 
Vain prophecy ! his fancy, taught by sloth. 
Saw, in the very threshold of pursuit, 
A thousand obstacles ; he halted first. 
And while he halted, saw his burning hopes 
Grow dim and dimmer still ; ambition's self. 
The advocate of loudest tongue, decayed j 
His purposes, made daily, daily broken. 
Like plant uprooted oft, and set again. 
More sickly grew, and daily wavered more ; 
Till at the last, decision, quite worn out. 
Decision, fulcrum of the mental powers, 
Resigned the blasted soul to staggering chance ; 
Sleep gathered fast, and weighed him downward still; 
His eye fell heavy from the mount of fame ; 
His young resolves to benefit the world 
Perished and were forgotten ; he shut his ear 
Against the painful news of rising worth ; 
And drank with des[)erate thirst the poppy's juice ; 
A deep and mortal slumber settled down 
Upon his weary faculties oppressed ; 
He rolled from side to side, and rolled again ; 
And snored, and groaned, and withered, and expired> 
And rotted on the spot, leaving no name. 

The hero best example gives of toil 
Unsanclified. One word iiis liistory writes 



130 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

" He was a murderer above the laws, 

And greatly praised for doing murderous deeds." 

And now he grew, and reached his perfect growth ; 

And also now the sluggard soundest slept, 

And by him lay the uninterred corpse. 

Of every order, sin and wickedness. 
Deliberate, cool, malicious villany. 
This age, attained maturity, unknown 
Before ; and seemed in travail to bring forth 
Some last, enormous, monstrous deed of guilt. 
Original, unprecedented guilt, 
That might obliterate the memory 
Of what had hitherto been done most vile- 
Inventive men were paid, at public copt. 
To plan new modes of sin ; the holy Word 
Of God was burned, with acclamations loud; 
New tortures were invented for the good ; — 
For still some good remained, as whiles through sky 
Of thickest clouds, a wandering star appeared ; — 
New oaths of blasphemy were framed and sworn ; 
And men in reputation grew, as grew 
The stature of their crimes. Faith was not found. 
Truth was not found, truth always scarce, so scarce 
That half tiie misery which groaned on earth. 
In ordinary times, was progeny 
Of disappointment, daily coming forth 
From broken promises, that might have ne'er 
Been made, or, being made, might have been kept ; 
Justice and mercy, too, were rare, obscured 
In cottage garb : before the palace door. 
The beggar rotted, starving in his rags ; 
And on the threshold of luxurious domes. 
The orphan child laid down his head, and died; 
Nor unamusing was his piteous cry 
To women, who had now laid tenderness 
Aside, best pleased with sights of cruelty ; 
Flocking, when fouler lusts would give them time. 
To horrid spectacles of blood, where men. 
Or guiltless beasts, that seemed to look to heaven, 



ISl 



With eye imjDloring vengeance on the earth, 

Were tortured for the merriment of kings. 

The ach'ocate for him who offered most 

Pleaded ; the scribe, according to the hire. 

Worded the lie, adding, for every piece. 

An oath of confirmation ; judges raised 

One hand to intimate the sentence, death. 

Imprisonment, or fine, or loss of goods, 

And in the other held a lusty bribe, 

Which they had taken to give the sentence wrong ; 

So managing the scale of justice still, 

That he was wanting found who poorest seemed 

But laymen, most renowned for devilish deeds. 
Laboured at distance still behind the priest ; 
He shore his sheep, and, having packed the wooi. 
Sent them unguarded to the hill of wolves; 
And to the bowl deliberately sat down. 
And with his mistress mocked at sacred things 

The theatre was, from the very first, 
The favourite haunt of Sin, though honest men. 
Some very honest, wise, and worthy men. 
Maintained it might be turned to good account ; 
And so perhaps it might, but never was. 
From first to last it was an evil place : 
And now such things were acted there, as made 
The devils blush ; and from the neighbourhood. 
Angels and holy men, trembling, retired : 
And what with dreadful aggravation crowned 
This dreary time, was sin against the light. 
All men knew God, and, knowing, disobeyed j 
Ani_ gloried to insult him to his face. 

Another feature only we shall mark. 
It was withal a highly polished age. 
And scrupulous in ceremonious rite. 
When stranger stranger met upon the way. 
First, each to each bowed most respectfully. 
And large profession made of humble service* 



132 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And then the stronger tQok the other's purse ; 
And he that stabbed his neighljour to the heart. 
Stabbed him politely, and returned the blade 
Reeking into its sheath with graceful air. 

Meantime the earth gave sympt^tps/br feer end; 
And all the scenery above proclaimed, 
That the great last catastrophe was near. 
The Sun at rising staggered and fell back. 
As one too early up, after a night 
Of late debauch ; then rose, and shone again, 
Brighter than wont ; and sickened again, and paused 
In zenith altitude, as one fatigued ; 
And shed a feeble twilight ray at noon. 
Rousing the wolf before his time to chase 
The shvipherd and his sheep, that sought for light. 
And darkness found, astonished, terrified; 
Then, out of course, rolled furious down the west. 
As chariot reined by awkward charioteer ; 
And, waiting at the gate, he on the earth 
Gazed, as he thought he ne'er migiit see't again. 
The bow of mercy, heretofore so fair. 
Ribbed with the native hues of heavenly love. 
Disastrous colours showed, unseen till now ; 
Changing upon the watery gulf, from pale 
To fiery red, and back again to pale ; 
And o'er it hovered wings of wrath. The Moon 
Swaggered in midst of heaven, grew black, and dark. 
Unclouded, uneclipsed. The stars fell down. 
Tumbling from off their towers like drunken men. 
Or seemed to fall ; and glimmered now, and now 
Sprang out in sudden blaze and dimmed again. 
As lamp of foolish virgin lacking oil. 
The heavens, this moment, looked serene ; the next. 
Glowed like an oven with God's displeasure hot. 

Nor less, below, was intimation given. 
Of some disaster great and ultimate. 
The tree that bloomed, or hung with clustering fruit 
Untouched by visible calamity 



BOOK VI. 133 

Of frost or tempest, died and came again- 
The flower and herb fell down as sick ; tlien rose 
And fell again. The fowls of eveiy hue. 
Crowding together, sailed on weary wing ; 
And, hovering, oft they seemed about to light; 
Then soared, as if they thought the earth unsafe. 
The cattle looked with meaning face on man. 
Dogs howled, and seemed to see more than their mas- 
ters. 
And there were sights that none had seen before ; 
And hollow, strange, unprecedented sounds. 
And earnest whisperings ran along the hills 
At dead of night ; and long, deep, endless sighs, 
Came from the di-eary vale ; and from the waste 
Came horrid shrieks, and fierce unearthly groans. 
The wail of evil spirits, that now felt 
The hour of utter vengeance near at hand. 
The winds froui every quarter blew at once. 
With desperate violence, and, whirling, took 
The traveller up, and threw him down again. 
At distance from his path, confounded, pale ; 
And shapes, strange shapes ! in winding sheets were 

seen. 
Gliding through night, and singing funeral songs, 
And imitating sad, sepulchral rites ; 
And voices talked among the clouds, and still 
The words that men could catch were spoken of them. 
And seemed to be the words of wonder great. 
And expectation of some vast event. 
Earth shook, and swam, and reeled, and opened her 

jaws. 
By Earthquake tossed, and tumbled to and fro j 
And, louder than the ear of man had heard. 
The Thunder bellowed, and the Ocean groaned. 

Tlie race of men, perplexed, but not reformed, 
Flocking together, stood in earnest crowds. 
Conversing of the awful state of things. 
Some curious explanations gave, unlearned • 
Some tried affectedly to laugh, and some 



134 fHE COURSE OF TIME. 

Gazed stupidly ; but all were sad and pale, 
And wished the comment of the wise. Nor less 
These prodigies, occurring night and day. 
Perplexed philosophy. The magi tried, — 
Magi, a name not seldom given to fools. 
In the vocabulary of earthly speech, — 
They tried to trace them still to second cause ; 
But scarcely satisfied themseives ; though round 
Their deep deliberations, crowding, came. 
And, wondering at their wisdom, went away. 
Much quieted and very much deceived, 
The people, always glad to be deceived. 

These warnings passed, they, unregarded, passed j 
And all in wonted order calmly moved. 
The pulse of Nature regularly beat, 
And on her cheek the bloom of perfect healtli 
Again appeared. Deceitful pulse ! and bloom 
Deceitful ! and deceitful calm ! The Earth 
Was old, and worn within ; but, like the man. 
Who noticed not his mid-day strength decline. 
Sliding so gently round the curvature 
Of life, from youth to age, — she knew it not. 
The calm was like the calm, which oft the man, 
Dying, experienced before his death ; 
The bloom was but a hectic flush, before 
The eternal paleness. But all these were taken, 
Bv this last race of men, for tokens of good ; 
And blustering public News aloud proclaimed — 
News always gabbling ere they well had diought — 
Prosperity, and joy, and peace ; and mocked 
The man who, kneeling, prayed, and trembled still ; 
And all in earnest to tlieir sins returned. 

It was not so in h3aven The elders round 
The Throne conversed about the state of man. 
Conjecturing, — for none of certain knew, — 
That Time was at an end. They gazed intense 
Upon tlie Dial's face, which yonder stands 
In goldybefore the Sun of Righteousness, 



BOOK VI. 135 

Jehovah, and computes time, seasons, years, 
And destinies, and slowly numbers o'er 
The mighty cycles of eternity ; 
By God alone completely understood. 
But read by all, revealing much to all. 
And now, to saints of eldest pkill, the ray. 
Which on the gnomon fell of Time, seemed sent 
From level west, and hasting quickly down. 
Tile holy Virtues, watching, saw, besides. 
Great preparation going on in heaven, 
Betokening great event, greater than aught 
That first-created seraphim had seen. 
The faitliful messengers, who have for wing 
The iiglUning, waiting, day and night, on God : 
Before liIs face, beyond their usual sjjeed. 
On pinion of celestial light were seen, 
Coming and going, and their road was still 
From heaven to earth, and >)ack again to heaven. 
The angel of Mercy, bent before the Throne, 
By earnest pleading, seemed to hold the hand 
Of Vengeance back, and win a momem. more 
Of late repentance for some sinful world 
In jeopardy : and, now, die hill of God, 
I'he mountain of his majesty, rolled flames 
Of fire, now smiled with momentary love, 
And now again with fiery fierceness burned ; 
And from behind the darkness of his Throne, 
Thruiigh which created vision never saw. 
The li\'ing Thunders, in their native caves. 
Muttered die terrors of Omnipotence, 
And ready seemed, impatient to fulfil 
Some errand of exterminating wrath. 

Meanwhile the Earth increased in wickedness, 
And hasted daily to fill up her cup. 
Satan raged loose. Sin had her will, and Death 
Enough. Blood irode upon the heels of Blood, 
Revenge, in desperate mood, at midnight met 
Revenge, War brayed to war. Deceit deceived 
Deceit, Lie cheated Lie, and Treachery 

10 



136 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Mined under Treachery, and Perjury 

Swore back en Perjury, and Blasphemy 

Arose with hideous Blasphemy, and Curse 

Loud answered Curse ; and drunkard, stumbling, fefl 

O'er drunkard fallen ; and husband husband met. 

Returning each from other's bed defiled ; 

Thief stole from thief, and robber on the way 

Knocked robber down, and Lewdness, Violence, 

And Hate, met Lewdness, Violence, and Hate. 

Oh, Earth ! thy hour was come ! the last elect 

Was born, complete the number of the good. 

And the last sand fell from the glass of Time, 

The cup of guilt was full up to the brim ; 

And Mercy, weary with beseeching, had 

Retired behind the sword of Justice, red 

With ultimate and unrepenting wrath ; 

But man knew not : he o'er his bowl laughed Ioud« 

And, prophesying, said, " 'I'o-morrow shall 

As this day be, and more abundant still !" 

As thou shalt hear — But, hark ! the trumpet sounds. 

And calls to e.ening song ; for, though with hymn 

Eternal, course succeeding course, extol 

In presence of the incarnate, holy God, 

And celebrate his never-ending praise, — 

Duly at morn and night, the multitudes 

Of men redeen»ed, and angels, all tlie hosts 

Of glory, join in universal song, 

And pour celestial harmony, from harps 

Above all number, eloquent and sweet. 

Above all thought of melody conceived. 

And now behold the fair inhabitants, 

Delightful sight ! from numerous business turn, 

And round and round through all the extent of bliss 

Towards the temple of Jehovah bow. 

And worship reverently before his face . 

Pursuits are various here, suiting all tastes, 
Though holy all, and glorifying God. 
Observe yon band pursue the sylvan stream : 
Mounting among the cliffs, they pull the flower. 



BOOK VI. 137 

Springing as soon as pulled, and, marvelling, pry 
Into its veins, and circulating blood, 
An 1 wondrous mimicry of higlier life ; 
Adnme its colours, fragrance, gentle shape; 
And thence admire the God who made it so — 
So simple, complex, and so beautiful. 

Behold yon other band, in airy robes 
Of bliss. They weave the sacred bovver of rose 
And myrtle shade, and shadowy verdant Iray, 
And laurel, towering high ; and round their song, 
The pink and liiy bring, and amaranth. 
Narcissus sweet, and jassamine ; and bring 
Tlie clustering vine, stooping with flower and fruit, 
The peach and orange, and the sparkling stream. 
Warbling with nectar to their lips unasked; 
And talk the while of everlasting love. 

On yonder hill, behold another band. 
Of piercing, steady, intellectual eye. 
And spacious forehead of sublimest thought. 
They reason deep of present, future, past; 
And trace effect to cause ; and meditate 
On the eternal laws of God, which bind 
Circiunference to centre ; and survey. 
With optic tubes, that fetch remotest stars 
Near them, the systems circling round immense, 
Innumerous. See how, — i»s he, the sage. 
Among the most renowned in days of Time, 
Renowned for large, capacious, holy soul, 
Demonstrates clearly motion, gravity. 
Attraction, and rejjulsion, still opposed; 
And dips into the deep, original, 
link no wn, mysterious elements of things, — 
See how the face of every au litor 
Expands with admiration of the skill, 
Omnipotence, and boundless love of God ! 

These other, sitting near the tree of life, 
Jn robes of linen flowing white and clean, 
M 



J38 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Of holiest aspect, of divinest soul, 
Angels and men, — into the glory look 
Of the Redeeming Love, and turn the leaves 
Of man's redemption o'er, the secret leaves, 
Wiiicli none on earth were found worthy to open | 
And, as they read the mysteries divine. 
The endless mysteries of salvation, wrought 
By God's incarnate Son, they humbler bow 
Befoi-e the Lamb, and glow with warmer love. 

These other, there relaxed beneath the shade 
Of yon embowering palms, with friendship smilg, 
And talk of ancient days, and young pursuits. 
Of dangers passed, of godly triumphs won ; 
And sing the legends of their native land, 
I^ess pleasing far than this their Father's house. 

Behold that other band, half lifted up 
Between the hill and dale, reclined beneath 
The shadow of impending rocks, 'mong streams, 
And thundering waterfalls, and waving boughs ; 
That band of countenance sublime and sweet, 
Whose eye, with piercing, intellectual ray. 
Now beams severe, or now bewildered seems, 
Left rolling wild, or fixed in idle gaze. 
While Fancy and the Soul are far from home; 
Tiiese hold the pencil, art divine ! and throw 
Before the eye remembered scenes of love ; 
Each picturing to each the hills, and skies. 
And treasured stories of tl>e world he left; 
Or, gazing on the scenery of heaven, 
They dip their hand in colour's native well. 
And, on the everlasting canvass, dash 
Figures of glory, imagery divine. 
With grace and grandeur in perfection knit. 

But, whatsoe'er these spirits blessed pursue, 
Where'er they go, whatever sights they see 
Of glory and bliss through all the tracts of heaven J 
The centre, still, the figure eminent. 



139 



Whithei' they ever turn, on whom all eyes 
Repose with infinite delight, is God, 
And his incarnate Son, the Lamb once slain 
On Calvary, to ransom ruined men. 

None idle here. Look where thou wilt, they all 
Are active, all engaged in meet piu'suit ; 
Not happy else. Hence is it that the song 
Of heaven is ever new ; for daily thus. 
And nightly, new discoveries are made 
Of God's unbounded wisdom, power, and love. 
Which give the understanding larger room. 
And swell the h^nnn with ever-growing praise 

Behold they cease ! and every face to God 
Turns ; and we pause from high poetic theme, 
Not worthy least of he'mg sung in heaven ; 
And on unvailed Godhead look from this. 
Our oft-frequented hill. He takes the harp. 
Nor needs to seek befitting phrase : unsought. 
Numbers harmonious roll along the lyre; 
As river in its native bed, they flow 
Spontaneous, flowing with the tide of thought. 
He takps the harp — a bard of Julaii leads. 
This night, the boundless song, the bard tliat once, 
When Israel's king was sad and sick to death, 
A message brought of fifteen added years. 
Before the Throne he stands sublime, in robes 
Of glory ; and now his fingers wake the chords 
To praise, which we and all in heaven repeat. 

Harps of Eternity ! begin the song. 
Redeemed and angel harps ! begin to God, 
Begin the anthem ever sweet and new. 
While I extol Him, holy, just, and good. 
Life, beauty, light, intelligence, and love 
Eternal, uncreated, infinite ! 
Unsearchable Jehovah ! God of truth. 
Maker, upholder, governor of all I 
Thyself unmade, ungoverned, unupheld ! 



giO THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Omnipotent, unchangeable, Great God ! 
Exliaustless fulness ! giving unimpaired ! 
Bi)iin(ling immensity, nnspread, unbound ! 
Highest and best ! beginning, miildle, end ! 
Aii-seeing Eye ! all-seeing, ami unseen ! 
Hearing, unheard ! all-knowing, and unknown! 
Above all praise ! above all height of thought ! 
Proprietor of immortality ! 
Glory ineffable ! bliss undenved ! 
Of old tliou builtst thy throne on righteousness. 
Before the morning Stars their song began, 
Or silence heard the voice of praise. Thou laidst 
Eternity's foundation stone, and sawst 
Life and existence out of Thee begin. 
Mysterious more, the more displayed, where still 
Upon thy glorious Throne thou sitst alone. 
Hast sat alone, and shalt for ever sit 
Alone, Invisible, Immortal One ! 
Behind essential brightness unbeheld. 
Incomprehensible ! what weight shall weigh. 
What measure measure Thee ! What know we mt 
Of Thee, what need to know, than Thou hast taugll 
And bidst us still repeat, at morn and even 1 — 
God ! Everlasting Father ! Holy One ! 
Our God, our Fadier, our Eternal All ! 
Source whence we came, ami whither we return; 
Who made our s))irits, who t)ur bodies made. 
Who made the heaven, who made the flowejy land. 
Who made all made, who orders, governs all. 
Who walks ujion the wind, who holds the wave 
In hollow of diy hand, whom Uumilers wait, 
Whom tempests serve, wluan Haniing fires obey. 
Who guides the circuit of the endless years. 
And sitst on high, and makest creation's top 
Thy footstool, and beholdst, bel<nv Thee, all — 
All naught, all less than naught, and vanity. 
Like transient dust that hovers on the scale, 
Ten thousand worlds are scattered in thy breath. 
Thou sitst on high, and measurest destinies, 
And days, and uiontlis, and wide-revolving years 



BOOK VI, 141 

And dost according to thy holy will ; 

And none can stay thy hand, and none withhold 

Thy glory ; for in judgment, Thou, as well 

As mercy, art exalted, day and night. 

Past, present, future, magnify tliy name. 

Thy works all praise Thee, all thy angels praise. 

Thy paints adore, and on thy r.ltars burn 

The fragrant incense of perpetual love. 

They praise Thee now, their hearts, their voices praise, 

And swell the rapture of the glorious song. 

Harp ! lift thy voice on high I bhout, angels, shout ! 

And lourlest, ye redeeaied ! glory to God, 

And to the Lamb who bought us with his blood, 

From every kindred, nation, people, tongue ; 

And washed, and sanctified, and saved our souls ; 

And gave us robes of linen pure, and crowns 

Of life, and made us kings and priests to God. 

Shout back to ancient Time ! Sing loud, and wave 

Your palms of triumph ! sing, Where is thy sting, 

O Death! where is thy victory, O Giave ! 

Thanks be to God, eternal thanks, who gave 

Us victory through Jesus Christ, our Lord. 

Harp ! lift thy voice on high ! shout, angels, shout? 

And loudest, ye redeemed ! glory to God, 

And to the Lamb, all glory and all praise, 

All glory and all praise, at morn and even, 

That come and go eternally, and find 

Us happy still, and Thee for ever blessed ! 

Glory to God and to the Lamb. Amen. 

For ever, and for evermore. Amen. 

And those who stood upon the sea of glass. 
And those who stood upon the battlements 
And lofty towers of New Jerusalem, 
And those who circling stood, bowing afar. 
Exalted «n the everlasting hills. 
Thousands of thousands, thousands infinite. 
With voice of boundless love, answered. Amen. 
And through Eternity near, and remote, 
The worlds, adoring, echoed back. Amen. 



142 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
The One Eternal, smiled superior bliss ! 
And every eye, and every face in heaven, 
Reflecting and reflected, beamed with love. 

Nor did he not, the Virtue new arrived. 
From Godhead gain an individual smile. 
Of high acceptance, and of welcome high. 
And confirmation evermore in good, 
jleantirae the landscape glowed with holy joy. 
Zephyr, with wing dipped from the well of Ufe, 
Sporting through Paradise, shed living dews ; 
The flowers, the spicy shrubs, the lawns, refreshed, 
Breatiied their selectest balm, breathed odoui's, such 
As angels love-; and all the trees of heaven, 
The cedar, pine, and everlasting oak. 
Rejoicing on the mountains, clapped their hands. 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK VII. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK VII. 

After the Hymn of praise, the Bard resumes his story 
He relates the destruction of the E.irth, the Resurrection 
of the dead, and the Transformation of the living. 

On the morn of the final day every appearance of Nature 
was as usual ; but at mid -day universal darkness prevail- 
ed, and every action and motion ceased ; an Angel from 
Heaven proclaimed the end of Time, ana ut.utiier oxew 
the Trump of God, at which the dead awoke and the 
living were changed. 

The remainder of the Book is occupied with a description 
of ci''cumstances connected with the momentous scene ; 
the living surprised in the midst of their thousand vari- 
ous occupations of study, labor, pleasure, crime ; the 
dead of every age and nation iipriiiging to life, in the 
wilderness, the cultivated field, amid ancient rums in 
the streets of populous cities, from the depths of the 
mighty waters. 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK VII. 



A s one who meditates at evening tide, 
Wandering alone by voiceless solitudes, 
An;l flies in fancy, far beyond the bounds 
Of visible and vulgar things, and tilings 
Discovered liitherto, pursuing tra» ts 
As yet untravelled anl unknown, through vast 
Of new and swent imaginings ; if chance 
Some airv harp, waked by the gentle sprites 
Of twilight, or ligiit touch of sylvan maid, 
In soft succession fall upon his ear. 
And (ill the desert with its heavenly tones; 
lie listens intense, and pleased exceedingly. 
And wishes it may never stop ; yet when 
It stops, grieves not ; but to his former thoughts 
With fondest haste returns : so did the Seer, 
So did his audience, after worship passed, 
A^nd praise in heaven, return to sing, to hear 
Of man, not worthy less the sacred lyre, 
Or the attentive ear ; and thus the bard, 
Not unbesought, again resumed his song. 

In customed glory bright, that morn, the Sun 
Kose, visiting the earth with light, and heat. 



144 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And joy ; and seemed as full of youth and strong 
To mount tlie steep of heaven, as when the Stars 
Of morning sung to his first dawn, and night 
Fled from his face ; the spacious sky received 
Him, blushing as a bride, when on her looked 
The bridegroom ; and, spread out beneath his eye, 
Earth smiled. Up to his warm embrace, the Dews^ 
That all night long had wept his absence, flew ; 
The herbs and flowers their fragrant stores unlocked. 
And gave the wanton breeze that, newly woke. 
Revelled in sweets, and from its wings shook health, 
A thousand grateful smells ; the joyous woods 
Dried in his beams their locks, wet with the drops 
Of night ; and all the sons of music sung 
Their matin song — from arboui ed bower, the thrush. 
Concerting with the lark that hymned on high. 
On the green hill the flocks, and in the vale 
The herds, rejoiced ; and, light of heart, the hind 
Eyed amorously the milk-maid as she passed. 
Not heedless, though she looked another way. 

No sign was there of change. All nature moved 
In wonted harmony. Men, as they met, 
In morning salutation, praised the day. 
And talked of common things. The husbandman 
Prepared the soil, and silver-tongued Hope 
Promised another harvest. In the streets, 
Each wishing to make profit of his neighbour. 
Merchants, assembling, spoke of trying times. 
Of bankruptcies, and markets glutted full. 
Or, crowding to the beach, where, to their ear. 
The oath of foreign accent, and the noise 
Uncouth of trade's rough sons, made music sweet* 
Elate with certain gain, — beheld the bark. 
Expected long enriched with other climes. 
Into the harbom- safely steer ; or saw, 
Pai-ting with many a weeping farewell sad. 
And blessing uttered rude, and sacred pledge. 
The rich laden carack, bound to distant shore. 
And hopefully talked of her coming back. 



145 



With richer fraught ; or sitting at the desk, 

In calculation deep and intricate 

Of loss and profit balancing, relieved. 

At intervals, the irksome task, with tJiought 

Of future ease, retired in villa snug. 

With subtle look, amid his parchments, sat 
The lawyer, weaving his sophistries for court 
To meet at mid-day. On his weary couch. 
Fat Luxury, sick of the night's debauch. 
Lay groaning, fretful at the obtrusive beam. 
That through hi^. lattice peeped derisively. 
The restless miser had begun again 
To count his heaps. Before her toilet stood 
The fair, and, as with guileful skill she decked 
Her loveliness, thought of the coming ball. 
New lovers, or the sweeter nuptial night. 
And evil men, of desperate, lawless life, 
By oath of deep damnation leagued to ill 
Remorselessly, fled from the face of day. 
Against the innocent tiieir counsel held. 
Plotting unpardonable deeds of blood. 
And villanies o4' fearful magnitude. 
Despots, secured behind a thousand bolts. 
The workmanship of fear, forged chains for man. 
Senates were meeting, statesmen loudly talked 
Of national resources, war and peace. 
And sagely balanced empires soon to end; 
And faction's jaded minions, by the page 
Paid for abuse and oft repeated lies, 
In daily prints, the thorough-fare of news, 
For party schemes made interest, under cloak 
Of liberty, and right, and public weal. 
In holy conclave, bishops spoke of tithes. 
And of die awful wickedness of men. 
Intoxicate with sceptres, diadems, 
And universal rule, and panting hard 
For fame, heroes were leading on the brave 
To battle. Men, in science deeply read, 
And acadeniic theory, foretold 



146 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Improvementa vast ; and learned sceptics proved 
That earth should with eternity endure — 
Concluding madly, that there was no God. 

No sign of change appeared : to every man 
That day seemed as the past. From noontide path 
The sun looked gloriously on eartii, and all 
Her scenes of giddy f )lly smiled secure. 
When suddenly, alas, fair Earth ! the sun 
Was wrapped in darkness, an 1 his beams returned 
Up to the throne of God, and over all 
The earth came night, moonless and starless night. 
Nature stood still. The seas and rivers stood, 
And all the winds, and every living thing. 
The cataract, that, like a giant wroth. 
Rushed down impetuously, as siezed, at once. 
By sudden frost, with all his hoaiy locks, 
Stood still ; and beasts of every kind st.jod still. 
A deep and dreadful silence reigned alone ! 
Hope died in evei'y breast, and on all men 
Came fear and trembling. None to his neighbour spoke. 
Husband thought not of wife, nor of her child 
The mother, nor frisnd of friend, nor foe of foe. 
In horrible suspense ail mortals stood ; 
And, as they stood and hstened, chariots were heard, 
Rolling in heaven. Revealed in flaming fire. 
The angel of God appeared in stature vast. 
Blazing, and, lifting up his hand on high, 
By Him that lives for ever, swore, that Time 
Should be no more. Throughout, creation heard 
And sighed ; all rivers, lakes, and seas, ai.d woods. 
Desponding waste, and cultivated vale. 
Wild cave, and ancient hill, and every rock. 
Sighed. Earth, arrested in her wonted path. 
As )x struck by the lifted axe, when naught 
Was feared, in all her entrails deeply groaned. 
A universal crash was heard, as if 
Tiie ribs of Nature broke, and all her dark 
Foundations failed ; and deadly paleness sat 
On every face of man, and every heart 



BOOK VII. 147 

Grew chill, and every knee his fellow smote. 

None spoke, none stirred, none wept j for horror heV 

Ail inontioiiless, an 1 fettered every tongue. 

Again, o'er ail the nations silence fell : 

And, in the heavens, robed in excessive light, 

Tiiat drove the thick of darkness far aside. 

And walked with penetration keen, through all 

Tlie abodes of men, another angel stood. 

And blew the trump of God : Awake, ye dead. 

Be changed, ye living, and put on the garb 

Of immortality. Awake, arise ! — 

The CJod of judgment comes ! This said the voice. 

And Silence, from eternity that slept 

Beyond the sphere of the creating Word, 

Aid all the noise of Time, awakened, heard. 

Heaven heard, and earth, and farthest hell, through , 

Her reigions of despair ; the ear of Death 

Heard, and the sleep t' at for so long a night 

Pressed on his leaden eyelids, fled ; and all 

The dead awoke, and all the living changed. 

Old men, that on their staff", bending, had leaned. 
Crazy and frail, or sat, benuml)ed with age, 
In weary listlessness, ripe for the grave. 
Felt through their sluggish veins and withered limbs, 
New vig )ur Hdw ; the wrinkled face grew smooth ; 
Upon tiie head, that Time had razored bare. 
Rose bushy locks ; an 1 as his son in prime 
Of strength and youth, the aged father stood. 
Changing herself^ the mother saw her son 
Grow up, and suddenly put on the form 
Of manhood ; and the wretch, that begging sat. 
Limbless, def)rmed, at corner of the way. 
Unmindful of his crutch, in joint and limb, 
Arose complete ; and he, that on the bed 
Of mortal sickness, worn with sore distress. 
Lay breathing forth his soul to death, felt now »■ 

The tide of life anJ vigour rushing back ; 
And, looking up, beheld his weeping wife, 
And daughter fond, that o'er him, bending, stooped 



148 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

To close his eyes. The frantic madman, too, 

In whose confused brain reason had lost 

Her way, long driven at random to and fro. 

Grew sober, and his manacles fell off. 

The newly-sheeted corpse arose, and stared 

On those who dressed it ; and the coffined dead. 

That men were bearing to the tomb, awoke. 

And mingled with their friends ; and armies, which 

The trump surprised, met in the furious shodt 

Of battle, saw the bleeding ranks, new fallen. 

Rise up at once, and to their ghastly cheeks 

Return the stream of life in healthy flow ; 

And as the anatomist, with all his band 

Of rude disciples, o'er the subject hung. 

And impolitely hewed his way, through bones 

And muscles of the sacred human form, 

Exposing barbarously to wanton gaze, 

The mysteries of nature, joint e.nbraced 

His kindred joint, the wounded flesh grew up, 

And sudde.ily the injured man awoke. 

Among their hands, and stood arrayed complete 

In immortality — forgiving scarce 

The insult offered to his clay in death. 

That was the hour, long wished for by the good. 
Of universal Jubilee to all 

The sons of bondage : from the oppressor's hand 
The scourge of violence fell, and from his back. 
Healed of its stripes, the burden of the slave. 

The youth of great religious soul, who sat 
Retired in voluntary loneliness. 
In reverie extravagant now wrapped. 
Or poring now an book of ancient date, 
With filial awe, and dipping oft his pen 
To write immortal things ; to pleasure deaf. 
And joys of common men, working his way 
With miglity energy, not uninspired, 
Through all the mines of thought ; reckless of pain, 
And weariness, aqd wasted healthj the scoff 



149 



Of Pride, or growl of Envy's hellish brood ; 

While Fancy, voyaged far beyond the bounds 

Of years revealed, heard many a fun;re age, 

With commendation loud, repeat his name, — 

False prophetess ! the day of change was come,— 

Behind the shadow of eternity. 

He saw his visions set of earthly fame, 

For ever set ; nor sighed, while through his veins, 

In lighter current, ran immortal life ; 

His form renewed to undecaying health j 

To undecaying health, his soul, erewhile 

Not tuned amiss to God's eternal praise. 

All men in field and city, by the way. 
On land or sea, Ldhng in gorgeous hall, 
Or plying at the oar ; crawling in rags 
Obscure, or dazzling in embroidered gold ; 
Alone, in companies, at home, abroad ; * 
In wanton merrimentsurpi-isedand taken. 
Or kneel&jg reverently in act of prayer j 
Or cursing recklessly, or uttering lies ; 
Or lapping greedily, from slander's cup. 
The blood of reputation ; or between 
Friendships and brotherhoods devising strife j 
Or plotting to defile a neighbour's bed ; 
In duel met with dagger of revenge ,• 
Or casting, on the widow's heritage. 
The eye of covetousness ; or, with fiill hand, 
On mercy's noiseless eiTands, unobserveji. 
Administering ; or meditating fraud 
And deeds of horrid barbarous intent; 
In full pursuit of unexperienced hope. 
Fluttering along tlie flowery path of youtli ; 
Or steeped in disappointment's bitterness, 
The fevered cup that guilt must ever drink, 
When parched and fainting on the road of ill; 
Beggar and king, the clown and haughty lord ; 
The venerable sage, and empty fop ; 
The ancient matron, and tlie rosy bride ; 
The virgin chaste, and shrivelled harlot vile ; 



150 THE COURSE OK TIME. 

The savage fierce, and man of science, mild ; 
Tlie good and evil, in a moment, all 
Were changed, corruptible to incorrupt. 
And mortal to immortal, ne'er to change. 

And now, descending from the bowers of heaven. 
Soft airs o'er all the earth, sprea;Iing, were heard, 
And Hallelujahs sweet, the harmnnj' 
Of righteous souls that came to repossess 
Their laug-neglected bodies ; and anon 
Upon the ear fell horribly the sound 
Of cursing, and the yells of damned despair. 
Uttered by felm spirits, that the trump 
Had summoned fiom the burning glooms of hell. 
To put their bodies on, reserved for wo. 

Now, starting up among the living changed. 
Appeared innumei'ous the risen dead. 
Each particle of dust was claimed : the turf. 
For ages trod beneath the careless foot 
Of men, rose, organized in human form ; 
The monumental stones were rolled away ; 
The doors of death were opened ; and in the dark 
And loathsome vault, an 1 silent charnel house, 
Moving, were heai'd the mouldered bones tiiat sought 
Their proper place. Instinctive, every soul 
Flew to its clayey part : from grass-grown mouJ.'' 
The nameless spirit took its ashes up, 
Reanimate ; and, merging from beneath 
The flattered marble, un iistinguishe 1 rose 
The great, nor hee led once the lavish rhyme. 
And costly pomp of sculptured garnish vain. 
The Memphian mummy, that from age to age, 
Descen ling, bought and sold a thousand times, , 
In hall of curious antiquary stowed. 
Wrapped in mysteidous weeds, the wondrous theme 
Of many an erring tale, shook ofl' its rags ; 
An 1 the brown son of Egypt stood beside 
The European, his last purchaser. 
In vale remote, the hermit rose, surprise'^ 



151 



At crowds tliat rose aronnd him, where he thought 
His slumbers had been single ; and the bard, 
Who fondly covenanted with his friend. 
To lay his bones beneath the sighing bough 
Of some old lonely tree, rising, was pressed 
By multitudes that claimed their proper dust 
From the same spot; and he, that, richly hearsed. 
With gloomy garniture of purchased wo. 
Embalmed, in princely sepulchre was laid. 
Apart from vulgar men, built nicely round 
And i-ound by the proud heir, who blushed to think 
His father's lordly clay sliould ever mix 
With peasant dust, — saw by his side awake 
The clown that long had slumbered in his arms. 

The family tomb, to whose devouring mouth 
Descended sire and son, age after age, 
In long, unbroken, hereditary line. 
Poured forth, at once, the ancient father rude, 
Ai>d all his offspring of a thousand years. 
Refreshed from sweet repose, awoke the man 
Of charitable life — awoke and sung : 
And from his prison house, slowly and sad. 
As if unsatisfied with holding near 
Communion with the earth, the miser drew 
His carcass forth, and gnashed his teeth, and howlei 
Unsolaced by his gold and silver then. 
From simple stone in lonely wilderness, 
That hoary lay, o'er-lettered by the hand 
Of oft-frequenting pilgrim, who had taught 
The willow tree to weep, at morn and even. 
Over the sacred spot, — the martyr saint. 
To song of seraph harp, triumphant, rose, 
W%11 pleased that he had suffered to the death. 
" The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous pnlaces," 
As sung the bard by Nature's hand anointed. 
In whose capacious giant numbers rolled 
The passions of old Time, fell lumbering down. 
All cities fell, and every work of man. 
And gave their portion forth of luiman diist 



152 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Touched by the mortal fingci of decay. 
Tree, herb, and flower, and every fowl of heaven, 
And fish, and animal., the wild and tame. 
Forthwith dissolving, crumbled into dust. 

Alas ! ye sons of strength, ye ancient oaks. 
Ye holy pines, ye elms, and cedars tall, 
Like towers of God, far seen on Carmel mount. 
Or Lebanon, that waved your boughs on high, 
And laughed at all the winds, — your hour was come ! 
Ye laurels, ever green, and bays, that wont 
To wreath the patriot and the poet's brow ; 
Ye myrtle bowers, and groves of sacred shade. 
Where Music ever sung, and Zephyr fanned 
His airy wing, wet with the dews of life. 
And Spring for ever smiled, the fragrant haunt 
Of Love, and Health, and ever -dancing Mirth, — 
Alas ! how suddenly your verdure died. 
And ceased your minstrelsy, to sing no more ! 
Ye flowers of beauty, penciled by the hand 
Of God, who annually renewed your birth. 
To p-eni the virgin robes of Nature chaste, 
' < Miling-featured daughters of the Sun ! 
T : ,• than queenly bride, by Jordan's stream 
i I iug your gentle lives, retired, unseen j 
('; ;, the sainted cliffs on Zion hill 
■^^ ■ luring, and holding with the heavenly dews. 
In holy revelry, your nightly loves. 
Watched by the stars, and offering, every morn. 
Your incense grateful both to God and manj — 
Ye lovely gentle tilings, alas ! no spring 
Shall ever wake you now ! ye withered all. 
All in a moment drooped, and on your roots 
The grasp of everlasting winter seized ! 
Children of song, ye birds that dwelt in air. 
And stole your notes from angels' lyres, and first 
In levee of the morn, with eulogy 
Ascending, hailed tlie advent of the dawn; 
Or, roosted on the pensive evening bough. 
In melancholy numbers, sung the day 



BOOK VII. 153 

To rest ; — ^^our IJttb wings, failing, dissolved, 
In middle air, and on your harmony 
Perpetual silence fell ! Nor diii his wing, 
That sailed in track of gods sublime, and fanned 
The sun, avail the eagle tlven ; quick smitten. 
His plumage withered In meridian height. 
And, In the valley, sunk the lordly bird, 
A clod of clay. Before the ploughman fell 
His steers, and in midway the furrow left. 
The shepherd saw his flocks around him turn 
To dust. Beneath his rltler fell the steed 
To ruins : and the lion in his den 
Grew cold and stiff, or in the furious cliase. 
With timid fawn, that scarcely missed his paws 
On earth .^o living thing was seen but men. 
New-changed, or rising from the opening tomb. 

Athens, and Rome, and Babylon, and Tjre, 
And she that sat on Thames, queen of the seas. 
Cities once famed on earth, convulsed through all 
Their mighty ruins, threw their millions forth 
Palmyra's dead, where Desolation sat. 
From age to age, well pleased in solitude. 
And silence, save wlien traveller's foot, or owl 
Of night, or fragment mouldering down to dust, 
Broke faintly on his desert ear, — awoke. 
A.id Salem, holy city, where the Prince 
Of Life, by death, a second life secured 
To man, and with him, from the grave, redeemed, 
A chosen lumber brought, to retinue 
His great ascent on high, and give sure pledge. 
That death was foiled, — her generations, now. 
Gave iij), of kings and priests, and Pharisees : 
Nor even the Sadducee, who fondly said. 
No morn of resurrection e'er should come. 
Could sit tl'iC summons ; to his ear did reach 
The trumpet's voice, and. 111 prepared for what 
He oft had proved should never be, he rose 
Reluctantly, and on his fare began 
To burn eternal shame. The cities, too 



154 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Of old ensepulchred beneath the flood, 

Or deeply slumbering under mountains huge. 

That Earthquake, servant of the wrath of God, 

Had on their wicked population t'.irown ; 

And marts of busy trade, long ploughed and sown, 

By history unrecorded, or the song 

Of bard, yet not forgotten their Avickedness, 

In heaven ; — poin-ed forth their ancient multitudes, 

That vainly wished their sleep had never broke. 

From battle-fields, where men by millions met 

To murder each his fellow, and make sport 

To kings and heroes, things long since forgot, 

Innumerous armies rose, unbannered all, 

Unpanoplied, unpraised ; nor found a prince, 

Or general, then, to answer for their crimes. 

The hero's slaves, and all the scarlet troops 

Of antichrist, and all that fought for rule, — 

Many high-sounding names, familiar once 

On earth, and praised exceedingly, but now 

Familiar most i:i hell, their dungeon fit. 

Where they may war eternally with God's 

Almighty thunderbolts, and win them pangs 

Of keener wo, — saw, as they sprung to life. 

The widow and the orphan ready stand. 

And helf)less virgin, ravished in their sport. 

To plead against them at the coming Doom. 

The Roman legions, boasting once, how loud ! 

Of liberty, and fighting bravely o'er 

The torrid and the frigid zcne, the sands 

Of burning Egypt, and the frozen hills 

Of snowy Albion, to make mankind 

Their thralls, untaught that he who made or kept 

A slave could ne'er himself be truly free, — 

That morning, gathered up their dust, which lay 

Wide-scattered over half the globe ; nor saw 

Their eagled banners then. Sennacherib's hosts. 

Embattled once against the sons of God, 

With insult bold, quick as the noise of mirth 

And revelry, sunk in their drunken camp. 

When death's dark angel, at the dead of night. 



BOOK VII. 15S 

Their vitals touched, and made each pulse stand still,— 
Awoke in sorrow ; and the multitudes 
Of Gog, and all the fated crew that warred 
Against the chosen saints, in the last days, 
At Armageddon, when the Lord came down. 
Mustering his host on Israel's holy hills, 
And, from the treasures of his snow and hail. 
Rained terror, and confusion rained, and death. 
And gave to all the beasts, and fowls of heaven. 
Of captain's flesh, and blood of men of war, 
A feast of many days,— revived, and, doomed 
To second death, stood in Hamonah's vale. 

Nor yet did all that fell in battle rise, 
That day, to wailing. Here And there were seen 
The patriot bands that from his guilty throne 
The despot tore, unshackled nations, made 
The prince respect the people's laws, drove back 
The wave of proud invasion, and I'ebuked 
The frantic fury of the multitude. 
Rebelled, and fought and fell for liberty 
Right understood, true heroes in the speech 
Of heaven, where words express the thoughts of him 
Who speaks ; not undistinguished these, though few. 
That morn, arose, with joy and melody.- 

All woke — the north and south gave up tlieir dead. 
The caravan, that in mid-journey sunk. 
With all its merchandise, expected long, 
And long forgot, ingulfed beneath the tide 
Of death, that the wild Spirit of the winds 
Swept, in his wrath, along the wilderness, 
In the wide desert, — woke, and saw all cahn 
Around, and populous with risen men : 
Nor of his relics thought the pilgrhn then. 
Nor merchant of his silks and spiceries. 

And he, far voyaging from home and friends. 
Too curious, with a mortal eye to peep 
Into the secrets of the Pole, forbid 



156 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

By iiature, whom fierce Winter seized, and froze 
To death, and wrapped in winding slieet of ice. 
And sung the requiem of his shive.'ing ghost. 
With the loud organ of his mighty winds, 
And on iiis memory tlnew tlie gnf)w of ages,— 
Felt the long-absent warmth of life return. 
And shook the frozen mountain from his bed. 

All rose, of every age, of every dime. 
Adam and E\e, the great p-'ogsnitors 
Of all mankind, fair as they seemed, that morn^ 
When fust they met In Paradise, unfallen, 
Uncursed, — from ancient slumber broke, where once 
Euphrates rolled his stream ; and by thera stood. 
In stature equal, and in soul as large, 
Their last posterity, though jioets bUiig, 
And sages proved them far degenerate. 

Blessed sight ! not unobserved by angels, nor 
Unjjraised, — that day, 'mong men of every tribe 
And hue, from those wlio drank of Tenglio's stream. 
To those who nightly saw the Hermit Cross 
In utmost south retired, — rising, were seen 
The fair and ruddy sons of Albion's land. 
How glad ! — not those who travelled far and sailed. 
To purchase human flesh, or wreath the yoke 
Of vassalage on savage liberti^ , 
Or suck large fortune from the sweat of slaves; 
Or, with refined knavery, to cheat. 
Politely villanous, untutored men 
Out of their property ; or gather shells, 
Intaglios rude, old pottery, and store 
Of mutilated gods of stone, and scraps 
Of barbarous epitaphs defaced, to be 
Among the learned the theme of w.irm debate, 
And infinite conje<aure, sagely wrong ! — 
But those, denied to self, to earthly fame 
Denied, and earthly wealth ; who kindred left. 
And home, and ease, and all the cultured joys. 
Conveniences, and delicate delights, 



BOOK Vll. 157 

Of ripe society ; in the great cause 

Of man's salvation, greatly valorous, 

The \varrioi3 of Messiah, messengers 

Of peace, and light, and life, \^ilose eye, unsealed, 

Saw up the path of immortality, 

Far into bliss, saw men, immortal men, 

Wide wandering from the -vay ; eclipsed in ntght, 

Dark, moonless, moral night ; living like beasts. 

Like beasts descending to the grave, untaught 

Of life to come, unsanctified, unsaved ; 

Wiiu, strong, though seeming weak; who warlike, 

though 
Unarmed with bow and sword ; appearing mad, 
1'hough sounder than the schools alone e'er made 
The doctor's head ; devote to God and truth. 
And sworn to man's eternal weal, beyond 
Repentance sworn, or thought of turning back j 
And casting far beh'nd all earthly care. 
All countryships, all national regards. 
And enmities, all narrow bourns of state 
And selfish policy; beneath their feet 
Treading all fear of opposition down. 
All fear of danger, of reproach all fear. 
And evil longues ; — went forth, from Britain went, 
A noiseless band of heavenly soldiei7, 
From out the armory of God equipped. 
Invincible, to contjuer sin, to blow 
The trump of freedom in the despot's ear, 
To tell the bruted slave his manhood high. 
His birtnright liberty, and in his hand 
To put the writ of manumission, signed 
By God's own signature ; to drive away 
From earth the dark, infernal legionry 
Of superstition, ignorance, and hell ; 
Fligh on the pagan hills, where satan sat, 
Encamped, and o'er the sul)jcct kingdoms threw 
Perpetual night, to plant Immannel's cross, 
The ensign of tlie Gospel, blazing round 
Immortal truth ; and, in the w-l i<|rness 
Of human waste, to sow eternal life j 



158 THE COURSE OF TiaiE. 

And from the rock, where Sin, with hon'id ye»^. 
Devoured its victims unredeemed, to raise 
The melody of grateful hearts to Heaven : 
To falsehood, truth ; to pride, humility; 
To insult, meekness ; pardon, to revenge ; 
To stubborn prejudice, unwearied zeal ; 
To censure, unaccusing minds ; to stripes. 
Long suffering ; to want of all things, hope , 
To death, assured faith of life to come ; — 
Opposing. These, great worthies, i-ising, shone 
Through all the tribes and nations of mankind, 
Like Hesper, glorious once among the stars 
Of twilight, and around them, flocking, stood. 
Arrayed in white, the people they had saved. 

Great Ocean ! too, that morning, thou the call 
Of restitution heardst, and reverently 
To the last trumpet's voice, in silence, listened. 
Great Ocean ! strongest of creation's sons. 
Unconquerable, unreposed, untired. 
That rolled the wild, profound, eternal bass. 
In Nature's anthem, and made music, such 
As pleased the ear of God ! origmal, 
Unmarred, unfaded work of Deity, 
And unburlesqued by mortal's puny skill. 
From age to age enduring and unchanged, 
Majestical, inimitable, vast. 
Loud uttering satire, day and night, on each 
Succeeding race, and little pompous work 
Of man ! — unfallen, religious, holy Sea ! 
Thou bovvedstthy glorious head to none, fearedst none, 
Heardst none, to none didst honour, but to God 
Thy Maker, only worthy to receive 
Thy great obeisance ! Undiscovered Sea ! 
Into thy dark, unknown, mysterious caves. 
And secret haunts, unfathomably deep 
Beneath all visible retired, none went, 
And came again, to tell the wonders there. 
Tremendous Sea ! what time thou hfted up 
Thy waves on high, and with thy winds and storms 



BOOK VII. 25^ 

Strange pastime took, and shook thy mighty sidea 

Indignantly, — the pride of navies tell ; 

Beyond the arm of help, unheard, unseen. 

Sunk friend and foe, with all their wealth and war j 

And on thy shores, men of a thousand tribes. 

Polite and barbarous, trembling stood, amazed, 

Confounded, terrified, and thought vast thoughts 

Of ruin, boundlessness, omnipotence, 

Infinitude, eternity ; and thought 

And wondered still, and grasped, and grasped, and 

grasped 
Again ; beyond her reach, exerting all 
Tiie soul, to take thy great idea in. 
To comprehend incompiehensible ; 
And wondered more, and felt their littleness. 
Self-purifying, unpolluted Sea ! 
Lover unchangeable, thy faithful breast 
For ever heaving to the lovely Moon, 
That like a shy and holy virgin, robed 
In saintly white, walked nightly in the heavens. 
And to the everlasting serenade 
Gave gracious audience ; nor was wooed in vain. 
That morning, thou, that slumbered not before. 
Nor slept, great Ocean ! laid thy waves to rest 
And hushed thy mighty minstrelsy. No breatli 
Thy deep composure stirred, no fin, no oar; 
Like beauty newly dead, so calm, so still. 
So lovely, thou, beneath the light that fell 
From angel-chariots, sentinelled on high. 
Reposed, and listened, and saw thy hvi ng change. 
Thy dead arise. Charybdis listened, antl Scylla 
And savage Euxine, on the Thracian beach. 
Lay motionless : and every battle-ship 
Stood still, and every ship of merchandise, 
And all that sailed, of every name, stood still. 
Evpn as the ship of war, full-fledged, and swift. 
Like some fierce bird of prey, bore on her foe. 
Opposing with as fell intent, the wind 
Fell withered from her wings that idly hung ; 
The stormy bullet, by the cannon tlurown 



160 THE COCRSE OF TIME. 

Uncivilly against the heavenly face 

Of men, half sped, punk harmlessly, and all 

Her loud, uncircumcised, tempestuous crew. 

How ill prepared to meet their Go 1 ! were changed, 

Unchangeable — the pilot at the helm 

Was changed, and the rough captain, while he mouthed 

The liuge, enormous oath. The fisherman. 

That in his boat, expectant, watched his Hnes, 

Or mended on the shore his net, and sung, 

Happy in thoughtlessness, some careless air, 

Heard Time depart, and felt the sudden change. 

In solitary deep, far out from land. 

Or steering from the port witii many a cheer, 

Or while returning from long voyage, fraught 

With lusty wealth, rejoicing to have escaped 

The dangerous main, and plagues of foreign climes,— 

The merchant quaffed his native*air, refreshed ; 

And saw his native hills, in the sun's light. 

Serenely rise ; and thought of meetings glad, 

And many days of ease anrl honour, spent 

Among his friends — unwarned man ! even then. 

The knell of Time broke on his reverie, 

And, in the twinkling of an eye, his hopes. 

All earthly, perished all. As sudden roae. 

From out tlieir watery beds, the Ocean's dead, 

Renewed ; and, on the unstirring billows, stood. 

From pole to pole, thick covering all the sea — 

Of every nation blent, and every age. 

Wherever slept one grain of human dust. 
Essential organ of a human soul. 
Wherever tossed, obedient to the call 
Of God's omnipotence, it hurried on 
To meet its fellow particles, revived. 
Rebuilt, in union indestructible. 
No atom of his spoils remained to Death. 
From his strong arm, by stronger arm released. 
Immortal now in soul and body both. 
Beyond his reach, stood all the sons of men. 
And saw, behind, his valley lie, unfeared. 



BOOK vn. 161 

O Death ! with what an eye of desperate lust, 
From out tliy emptied vaults, thou then didst look 
After the risen multitudes of all 
Mankind ! Ah ! tiiou hadst been the terror long, 
And mmflerer, of all of woman born. 
None could escape tliee ! In thy dungeon house. 
Where darkness dwelt, and putrid loatlisomeness. 
And fearful silerce, villanously still. 
All 1 all ot horrible and deadly name, — 
Thou satst, from Age to age, insatiate, 
A:i(l drank the blood of men, and gorged thek flesh, 
And W'ilh thy iron teedi didst grind their bones 
To powder, treading out, beneath thv feet. 
Their very names and memories. The blood 
Of nations could not slake thy parched tliroat. 
No bribe could buy thy favour for an hour. 
Or mitigate thy ever-cruel rage 
For human prey. Gold, oeauty, virtue, youtli. 
Even helpless, swaddled innocency, failed 
To soften thy heart of stone ! the infant's blood 
Pleased well thy taste, and, while the mother wept 
Bereaved by thee, lonely and waste in wo. 
Thy ever-grinding jaws devoured her too. 

Each son of Adam's family belield. 
Where'er he turned, whatever path of life 
He trode, thy goblin form before him stand, 
Lik« trusty old assassin, in his aim 
Steady and sure as eye of destiny. 
With sithe, and dart, and strength invincible. 
Equipped, and ever menacing his life. 
He turned aside, he drownea himself in sleep, 
In wine, in pleasure ; travelled, voyaged, sough 
Receipts for health from all he met ; betook 
To business, speculate, retired ; returned 
Again to active life, again retired ; 
Returned, retired again ; prepared to die. 
Talked of thy nothingness, conversed of life 
To come, laughed at his fears, filled up the cup. 
Drank deep, refrained < filled up, refrained again j ' 



162 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Planned, built him round with splendour, won applause. 

Made large alliances with men and things. 

Read deep in science and philosophy, 

To fortify his soul ; heard lectures prove 

The present ill, and future good ; observed 

His pulse beat regular, extended hope ; 

Thought, dissipated thought, and thought again ; 

Indulged, abstained, and tried a thousand schemes. 

To ward thy blow, or hide thee from nis eye ; 

But still thy gloomy terrors, dipped in sin. 

Before him frowned, and withered all his joy. 

Still, feared and hated thing ! thy ghostly shape 

Stood in his avenues of fairest hope ; 

Unmannerly and uninvited, crept 

Into his haunts of most select delight. 

Still, on his halls of mirth, and banqueting, 

And revelry, thy shadowy hand was seen 

Writing thy name of — Death. Vile worm, that gnawed 

The root of all his happiness terrene, the gall 

Of all his sweet, the thorn of every rose 

Of earthly bloom, cloud of his noon-day sky. 

Frost of his spring, sigh of his loudest laugh, 

Dark spot on every form of loveliness, 

Rank hmell amidst his rarest spiceries. 

Harsh dissonance of all his harmony. 

Reserve of every promise, and the if 

Of all to-morrows ! — now, beyond thy vale. 

Stood all tlie ransomed multitude of men. 

Immortal all : and, in their visions, saw 

Thy visage grim no more. Great payment day ! 

Of all thou ever contjuered, none was left 

In thy unpeopled realms, so populous once. 

He, at whose girdle hang the keys of death. 

And life, not bought but with the blood of Him 

Who wears, the eternal Son of God, that morn. 

Dispelled the cloud that sat so long, so thick, 

So heavy o'er thy vale ; opened all thy doors. 

Unopened before ; and set thy prisoners free. 

Vain was resistance, and to follow vain. 

In thy unveiled caves, and solitudes 



163 



Of dark and dismal emptiness, thou satst, 
Rolling thj' liollow eyes, disabled thing ! 
Helpless, despised, unpitied, and unfeared, 
Like some fallen tyrant, chained in sight of all 
The people ; from thee cropped thy pointless dart, 
Thy terrors withered all, thy ministers. 
Annihilated, fell before thy face. 
And on thy maw eternal Hunger seized. 

Nor yet, sad monster ! wast thou left alone. 
In thy dark dens some phantoms still remained,— 
Ambition, Vanity, and earthly Fame, 
Swollen Ostentation, meagre Avarice, 
Mad Superstition, smooth Hypocrisyy 
And Bigotry intolerant, anJ Fraud, 
And wilful Ignorance, and sullen Pride, 
Hot Controversy, and the subtle ghost 
Of vain Philosophy, and worldly Hope, 
And swest-lipped, hollow-hearted Flattery. 
All these, great personages once on earth. 
And not unfollowed, nor unpraised, were left. 
Thy ever-unredeemed, and v/ith thee driven 
To'Erebus, through whose uncheered wastes, 
Thou mayest chase them, with thy broken sithe 
Fetching vain strokes, to all eternity, 
Unsatisfied, as men who, in the days 
Of Time, Uieir unsubstanual forms pursued 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK VIII. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK VIII. 

The Bard describes the appearance of the vast Assembly 
of men gathered for the Final Judgment. 

All were divested of the extraneous circumstances by 
which they were distinguished in life, each retaining 
simply his moral character. Various classes in the 
assembly are"particularized ; the lover of fame, the lo- 
gician, the recluse, the bigot, tlie indolent, the sceptic, 
the dupe of fashion, the unforgiving parent, the seducer, 
the dishonest judge and advocate, the liar, duellist, sui- 
cide, hypocrite, the slanderer, the ungodly mini^ster, the 
man of envy. 

When the Bard has named these classes, and presented 
their character, and their feelings in the awful Assem- 
bly, the Spirit whose inquiries had given occasion for the 
Bard's communications, asks whether any of the several 
classes of the unholy ever actually believed themselves 
advancing to a future Bar of Judgment. The answer is 
given that they did not. The word of God was properly 
and perfectly believed by none of them ; the necessary 
and certain fruit of faith being obedience and holin^s. 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK VIII. 



Reanimated, now, and dressed in robes 
Of everlasting wear, in the last pause 
Of expectation, stood the human race. 
Buoyant in air, or covering shore and sea, 
From east to west, thick as the eared grain, 
In golden autumn waved, from field to field. 
Profuse, by Nilus' fertile wave, while yet 
Earth was, and men were in her valleys seen. 

I Still, all was calm m heaven. Nor yet appeared 
I The Judge, nor anght appeared, save here and there, 
' Oil wing of golden plumage borne at will, 
[ A curious angel, that from out the skies 
I Now glanced a look on man, and then retired. 
As calm was all on earth. The ministers 
Of God's unsparing vengeance, waited, still 
Unhid. No sun, no moon, no star, gave light. 
A blessed and holy radiance, travelled far 
From day original, fell on the face 
' Of men, and every countenance revealed J 
Unpleasant to the bad, whose visages 
Had lost all guise of seeming happiness, 
With which on earth such r-nins they took to hide 
O 



166 th;e course of time. 

Their misery in. On their grim features, now 
The plain, unvisored index of the soul. 
The true, untampered witness of the heart. 
No smile of hope, no look of vanity 
Beseeching for applause, was seen ; no scowl 
Of self-iinportant, all-despising pride. 
That once upon the poor and needy fell. 
Like winter on the unprotected flower, 
Withering their very being to decay. 
No jesting mirth, no wanton leer, was seen. 
No sullen lower of braggart fortitude 
Defying pain, nor anger, nor revenge ; 
But fear instead, and terror, and remorse ; 
And chief, one passion, to its answering, shaped 
The features of the damned, and in itself 
Summed all the rest, — unutterable despair. 

What on the righteous shone of foreign lights 
Was all redundant day, they needed not. 
For as, by nature, Sin is dark, and loves 
The dark, still hiding from itself in gloom, 
And in the darkest hell is still itsell" 
The darkest hell, and the severest wo. 
Where all is vvo ; so Virtue ever fair ! 
Doth by a sympathy as strong as binds 
Two equal hearts, well pleased in wedded love. 
For ever seek the light, for ever seek 
All fair and lovely things, all beauteous forms. 
All images of excellence and truth; 
And from her owh essential being, pure 
As flows the fount of life that spirits Jrink, 
Doth to herself give light, nor from her beams. 
As native to her as her own existence. 
Can be divorced, nor of her glory shorn,— 
Which now, from every feature of the just. 
Divinely rayed, yet not from all alike ; 
In measure, equal to the soul's advance 
In virtue, was the lustre of the face. 

It was a strange assembly : none, of all 
That congregation vast, could recollect 



BOOK VIII. , 167 

Aught like it in the history of man. 

No badge of outward state was seen, no mark 

Of age, or rank, or national attire. 

Or robe professional, or air of t-ade. 

Untitled, stood the man that once was called 

My lord, unserved, unfollowed ; and the mjui 

Of tithes, right reverend in the dialect 

Of Time addressed, ungowned, unbeneficed, 

Uncorpulent; nor now, from him who bore. 

With ceremonious gravity of step, 

And face of borrowed holiness o'erlaid. 

The ponderous book before the awful priest. 

And opened and shut the pulpit's sacred gates 

In style of wonderful observancy 

And reverence excessive, in the beams 

Of sacerdotal splendour lost, or if 

Observed, comparison ridiculous scarce 

Could save the little, pompous, humble man ' 

From laughter of the people, — not from him 

Could be distinguished then tlie priest untitlied. 

None levees held, those marts where princely smiles 

Were sold for flatteiy, and obeisance mean. 

Unfit from man to man ; none came or went. 

None wished to draw attention, none was pool", 

None rich, none young, none old, deformed none ; 

None sought for place or favour, none had aught 

To give, none could receive, none ruled, none served; 

No king, no subject was ; unscutcheoned all. 

Uncrowned, uiijjlumed, unhelmed, unpedigreed. 

Unlaced, uncoroneted, unbestarred. 

Nor countryman was seen, nor citizen ; 

Repubhcan,nor humble advocate 

Of monarchy ; nor idol worshipper. 

Nor beaded papist, nor Mahometan ; 

EpiscopiliaQ none, nor presbyter; 

Nor Lutheran, nor Calvinist, nor Jew, 

Nor Greek, nor sectary of any name. 

Nor, of those persons, that loud title bore. 

Most high and mighty, most magnificent. 

Most potent, most august, most worshipful. 



168 THE, COURSE OF TIME- 

Most eminent, words of great pomp, that pleased 
The ear of vanity, and made the worms 
Of earth mistake themseh'es for gods, — could one 
Be seen, to claim tliese phrases obsolete. 

It was a congregation vast of men. 
Of unappendaged and unvarnished men, 
Of plain, unceremonious human beings. 
Of all but moral character bereaved. 
His vice or virtue, now, to each remained. 
Alone. All else, with their grave-clothes, men had 
Put off, as badges worn by mortal, not 
Immortal man ; alloy that could not pass 
The scrutiny of Death's refining fires; 
Dust of Time's wheels, by multitudes pursued 
Of fools that shouted — Gold ! fair painted fruit. 
At which the ambitious idiot jumped, while men 
Of wiser mood immortal harvests reaped ; 
Weeds of the human garden, sprung from earth's 
Adulterate soil, unfit to be transplanted. 
Though by the moral botanist, too oft, 
For plants of heavenly seed mistaken and nursed ; 
Mere chaff, that Virtue, Avhen she rose from earth 
And waved her wings to gain her native heights. 
Drove from the verge of being, leaving Vice 
No mask to hide her in ; base-born of Time, 
In which God claimed no property, nor had 
Prepared for them a place in heaven or hell. 
Yet did these vain distinctions, now forgot. 
Bulk largely in the filmy eye of Time, 
And were exceeding fair, and lured to death 
Immortal souls. But they were passed, for all 
Ideal now was passed ; reality 
Alone remained ; and good and bad, redeemed 
^4nd unredeemed, distinguished sole the sons 
^f men. Each, to his proper self reduced, 
And undisguised, was what his seeming showed. 

Tlie man of earthly fame, whom common men 
j^lfide boast of ha^ing seen, xvho scarce could pas.'S 



BOOK VIII.- 1( 

Tlie ways of Time, for eager crowds that pressed 
To do him homage, and pursued his ear 
With endless praise, for deeds unpraised above, 
And yoked their brutal natures, honoured much 
To drag his chariot on, — unnoticed stood, 
With none to praise him, none to flatter there. 

Blusliing and dumb, that morning, too, was seen 
The mighty reasoner, lie who deeply searched 
The origin of things, and talked of good 
And evil, much, of causes and eft'ects. 
Of mind and matter, contradicting all 
That went before him, and himself, the while, 
The laughing-stock of angels ; diving far 
Below his depth, to fetch reluctant proof, 
That he himself was mad and wicked too, 
When, proud and ignorant man, he meant to prove 
That God had made the universe amiss, - 
And sketched a better plan. Ah ! foolish sage ! 
He could not trust the word of Heaven, nor see 
The light which from the Bible blazed, — that lamp 
Which God threw from his palace down to earth. 
To guide his wandering children home, — yet leaned 
His cautious faith on speculations wild, 
And visionary theories absurd, 
Prodigoiusly, deliriously absurd. 
Compared w ith which, the most erroneous flight 
That poet ever took when warm with v/ine. 
Was moderate conjecturing : he saw. 
Weighed in tUe balance of eternity. 
His lore how light, and wished, too late, that he 
Had staid at home, and learned to know himself. 
And done, what peasants did, disputed less. 
And more obeyed. Nor less he grieved his time 
Misspeiit, the man of curious research. 
Who travelled far through lands of hostile clime 
And dangerous inhabitant, t() fix 
The boun Is of empires passed, and ascertain 
The burial-place of heroes, never born ; 
Despising present things, and future too 



170 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

And groping in the dark unsearchable 

Of finished years, — by dreary ruins seen, 

And dungeons damp, and vaults of ancient waste, 

Wi h spade and mattock, delving deep to raise 

Old Vrtses and disuieinbered idols rude ; 

Witti matchless perseverance, spelling out 

Words without sense. Poor man ! he clapped his 

hands, 
Enraptured, when he found a manuscript 
That spoke of pagan gods ; and yet forgot 
The God who made the sea and sky, alas ! 
Forgot that trifling was a sin ; stored much 
Of dubious stuff, but laid no treasure up 
In heaven ; on mouldered columns scratched his name. 
But ne'er inscribed it in the book of life. 

Unprofitable seemed, and unapproved. 
That day, the sullen, self-vindictive life 
Of the recluse. With crucifixes hung, 
And spells, and rosaries, and wooden saints. 
Like one of reason reft, he journeyed forth. 
In show of miserable poverty. 
And chose to beg, — as if to live on sweat 
Of other men, had promised great reward; 
On his own flesh inflicted cruel wounds. 
With naked foot embraced the ice, by the hour 
Said mass, and did most grievous penance vile ; 
And Jien retired tj drink the filthy cup 
Ol (secret wickedness, and fabricate 
All iying wonders, by the untaught received 
For revelations new. Deluded wretch ! 
Did he not know, that tlie most Holy One 
Required a cheerful life and holy heart % 

Most disappointed in that crowd of men. 
The man of subtle controversy stood. 
The bigot theologian, in minute 
Distinctions skilled, and doctrines unreduced 
To practice ; in debate how loud ! how long ! 
How dexterous ! in Cliristian love how cold ! 



BOOK viir. 171 

His vain conceits were orthodox alone. 

The immutable anfl heavenly truth, revealed 

By God, was naught to him. He had an art, 

A kind of hellish charm, that made the lips 

Of truth speak folsehood, to his liking turned 

The meaning of the text, made triiles seem 

The marro\v of salvation ; to a word, 

A name, a sect, that sounded in the ear, 

And to the eye so many letters showed, 

But did no more, — gave value infinite ; 

Proved still his reasoning best, and his belief. 

Though propped on fancies wild as madmen's di'eams. 

Most rational, most scriptural, most sound j 

With mortal heresy denovtncing all 

Who in his arguments could see no force. 

On points of faitli, too fine for human sight, 

And never understood in heaven, he placed 

His everlasting hope, undoubting placed, 

And died ; and, when he opened his ear, prepared 

To hear, beyond the grave, the minstrelsy 

Of bliss, he heard, alas ! the wail of wo. 

He proved all creeds false but his own, and found. 

At last, his own most false — most false, because 

He spent his time to prove all others so. 

O love-destroying, cursed Bigotry ! 
Cursed in heaven, but cursed more in hell, 
Where millions curse thee, and must ever curse ! 
Religion's most abhorred ! perdition's most 
Forlorn! God's most abandoned ! hell's most damned! 
The infidel, who turned his impious war 
Against the walls of Zion, on the rock 
Of ages built, and higher than the clouds. 
Sinned, and received his due reward ; but she 
Within her walls sinned more. Of Ignorance 
Begot, her daughter. Persecution, walked 
The earth, from age to age, and drank the blood 
Of saints, with horrid relish drank the blood 
Of God's peculiar children, and was drunk. 
And in her drunkenness dreamed of doing good. 



172 THB COURSE OF TIME. 

The supplicating hand of innocence. 

That made the tiger mill, and in liis wrath 

The hon pause, tlie groans of suffering most 

Severe, were nauglit to her ; she langhed at groan? 

No music pleased her more, and no repast 

So sweet to her, as blood of men redeemed 

By blood of Christ. Ambition's self, though mad. 

And nursed on human gore, witli her compared. 

Was merciful. Nor did she always rage. 

She had some hours of meditation, set 

Apart, wherein she to lier study went. 

The Inquisition, model most com];lete 

Of perfect wickedness, wliere deeds were done, — 

Deeds ! let them ne'er l:>e named, — and sat and planned 

Deliberately, and with most musing pains, 

How, to extremest thrill of agony, 

The flesh, and blood, and souls of holy men, 

Her victims, might be wrought ; and when she saw 

New tortures of her labouring fancy born. 

She leaped for joy, and made great haste to try 

Their force — well pleased to hear a deeper groan. 

But now her day of mirth was passed, and come 
Her day to weep, her day of l^itter groans. 
And sorrow unhemoaned, the day of grief 
And wrath retributory poured in full 
On all that took her part. The man of sin. 
The mystery of iniquity, her friend 
Sincere, who pardoned sin, unpardoned still. 
And in the name of God blasphemed, and did 
All wicked, all abominable things, 
Blost abject stood, that day, by devjjs hissed. 
And by the looks of those he murdered, scorched ; 
And pfagued with inward shame, that on his cheek 
Burned, while his votaries, who left the eartli, 
Secure of bliss, around him, undeceived, 
Stood, undeceivable till then ; and knew. 
Too late, him fallible, themselves accursed. 
And all their passports and certificates, 
A lie : nor disappointed more, nor more 



BOOK VIII. 173 

Asliamea, tlie Mussulman, when he saw, gnash 
His teeth and wail, whom he expected judge. 
All tliese were damned for bigotry, were damned, 
Because they thought, that they alone served God, 
And served him most, when most tliey disobeyed. 

Of those forlorn and sad, tliou mightst have marked 
In number most innumerable, stand 
The indolent ; too lazy these to make 
Inquiry for themselves, they stuck their faith 
To some well-fatted priest, with offerings bribed 
To bring them oracles of peace, and take 
Into his management all the concerns 
Of their eternity ; managed how well 
Tliey knew, that day, and might have sooner known, 
That the commandment was. Search, and beheve 
In Me, and not in man ; who leans on him 
Leans on a broken reed, that w ill impierce 
The trusted side. I am the M'ay, the truth. 
The life, alone, and tliere is none besides. 

This did they read, and yet refused to search, 
To search what easily was found, and, found. 
Of price uncountable. Most foolish, tliey 
Thought God with ignorance pleased, and blinded faith, 
That took not root in reason, purified 
With holy influence of his Spirit pure. 
So, on they walked, and stumbled in the light 
Of noon, because they would not open their eyes. 
Effect how sad of slotii ! that made tliera risk 
Their piloting to the eternal shore. 
To one who could mistake the lurid flash 
Of hell for heaven's true star, ratlier than bow 
The knee, and by one fervent word obtain 
His guidance sure, who calls th^tars by name. 
They prayed by proxy, and at second hand 
Believed, and slept, and put repentance off. 
Until the knock of death awoke them, when 
They saw their ignorance botii, and him diey paid 
To bargain of their bouls 'twixt them and God, 



174 THE COURSE OF TI»IE. 

Fled, and began repentance witliout end. 
How did they wish, that morning, as they stood 
With blushing covered, they had for themselves 
The Scripture searched, had for thems^Jyes believed, 
And made acquaintance with the Judge ere then ! 

Great day of termination to the joys 
Of sin ! to joys that grew on mortal boughs, 
On trees whose seed fell not from heaven, whose top 
Reached not above the clouds. From such, alone, 
The epicure took all his meals. In choice 
Of morsels for the body, nice he was. 
And scrupulous, and knew all wines by smell 
Or taste, and every composition knew 
Of cookery ; but grossly drank, unskilled, 
The cup of spiritual pollution up. 
That sickened his soul to death, while yet his eyes 
Stood out with fat. His feelings were his guide- 
He ate, and drank, and slept, and look all joys, 
Forbid and unforbid, as impulse urged 
Or appetite, nor asked his reason why. 
He said, he followed Nature sti'l, but hed ; 
For she was temperate and chaste, he full 
Of wine and all adultery ; her face 
Was holy, most unholy his ; her eye 
Was pure, his shot unhallowed fire ; her lips 
Sang praise to God, his uttered oaths profane J 
Her breath was sweet, his rank with foul debauch 
Yet pleaded he a kind and feeling heart. 
Even when he left a neighbour's bed defiled. 
Like migratory fowls, that flocking sailed 
From isle to isle, steering by sense alone. 
Whither the clime their liking best beseemed; 
So he was guided, so he moved through good 
And evil, right and wrong, but, ah ! to fate 
All different : they slept in dust, unpained; 
He rose, that day, to suffer endless pain. 

Cured of his unbelief, the sceptic stood. 
Who doubted of his being wlule he breathed, 



BOOK VIII. 175 

Than whom glossography itself, tliat spoke 

Huge folios of nonsense every j|our, 

And left, surrounding every page, its marks 

Of prodigal stupidity, scarce more 

Of folly raved. The tyrant too, who sat 

In grisly council, like a spider couched, 

AVith ministers of locust countenance, 

And made alliances to rob mankind. 

And holy termed, — for still, beneath a name 

Of pious sound, the wicked sought to veil 

Their crimes, — forgetful of his right divine. 

Trembled, and owned oppression was of hell ; 

Nor did the uncivil robber, who unpursed 

The traveller on the high-way, and cut 

His throat, anticipate severer doom. 

In that assembly there was one, who, while 
Beneath the sun, aspired to be a fool ; 
In different ages known by diiferent names. 
Not worth repeating here. Be this enough : 
With scrupulous care exact, he walked the rounds 
Of fashionable duty, laughed when sad ; 
When merry, wept ; deceiving, was deceived ; 
And flattering, flattered. Fashion was his god. 
Obsequiously he fell before its shrine. 
In slavish plight, and trembled to oft'end. 
If graveness suited, he was grave ; if else. 
He travailed sorely, and made brief re^dse, ' 
To work the proper quantity of sin. 
In all submissive, to its changing shape, 
Still changing, girded he h.is vexed frame, 
And laughter made to men of sounder head. 
Most circumspect he was of bows, and nods. 
And salutations ; and most seriously 
And deeply meditated he of dress ; 
And in hit dreams saw lace and ribbons fly. 
His soul was naught ; he damned it, every day. 
Unceremoniously. Oh ! fool of fools ! 
Pleased with a painted smile, he fluttered on. 
Like fly of gaudy plume, by fashion driven. 



nQ THE COURSE OF TIME. 

': As faded leaves by Autumn's wind, till Death 
Put forth his hand, and drew him out of sight. 
Oh ! fool of fools ! polite to man ; to God 
Most rude : yet had he many rivals, who, 
Acre after age, great striving made to be 
Ridiculous, and to forget they had 
Immortal souls, that day remembered well. 

As rueful stood his other half, as wan 
Of cheek. Small her ambition was, but strange. 
The distaff, needle, all domestic cares. 
Religion, cliikUen, husband, home, were things 
She could not bear the thought of, bitter drugs 
That sickened her soul. The house of wanton mirth 
And revelry, the mask, the dance, she loved. 
And in their service soul and body spent 
Most cheerfully. A little admiration. 
Or true or false, no matter which, pleased her. 
And o'er the wreck of fortune lost, and health. 
And peace, and an eternity of bliss 
Lost, made her sweetly smile. She was convinced. 
That God had made her greatly out of taste ; 
And took much pains to make herself anew. 
Bedaubed with paint, and hung with ornaments 
Of curious selection, gaudy toy ! 
A show unpaid for, paying to be seen ! 
As beggar by the way, most humbly asking 
The alms of public gaze, — she went abroad. 
Folly admired, and indication gave 
Of envy, cold Civility made bows 
And smoothly flattered. Wisdom shook his head. 
And Laughter shaped his lip into a smile ; 
Sobriety did stare, Foretliought grew pale. 
And Modesty hung down the head and blushed. 
And Pity wept, as, on the frothy surge 
Of fashion tossed, she passed them by, like sail 
Before some devilish blast, and got no lime 
To think, and never thought, till on the rock 
She dashed, of ruin, anguish, and despair. 



BOOK VIII. ]77 

O how unlike this giddy thing in Time ! 
And at the day of judgment how unhke, 
The modest, meek, retiring dame ! Her house 
Was ordered well, her children taught the way 
Of life, who, rising up in honour, called 
Her blessed. Best pleased to be admired at home, 
And hear, reflected from her husband's praise. 
Her own, she sought no gaze of foreign eye; 
His praise alone, and faithful love, and tsust 
Reposed, was happiness enough for her. 
Yet who, that saw her pass, and heard the poor 
With earnest benedictions on her steps 
Attend, could from obeisance keep his eye. 
Or tongue from due applause ! In virtue fair, 
Adorned with modesty, and matron grace 
Unspeakable, and love, her face was like 
The light, most welcome to the eye of man ; 
Refreshing most, most honoured, most desired. 
Of all he saw in the dim woild below. 
As Morning when she shed her golden locks', 
And on th^ dewy top of Herraon walked. 
Or Zion hill ; so glorious was her path. 
OM men belield, and did her reverence. 
And bade their daughters look, and take from hei 
Example of their future life ; the young 
Admired, and new resolve of virtue made. 
And none who was her husband asked ; his air 
Serene, and countenance of joy, the sign 
Of inward satisfaction, as he passed 
The crowd, or sat among the elders, told. 
In holiness complete, and in the robes 
Of saving righteousness, arrayed for heaven. 
How fiiir, that day, among the fair, she stood ! 
How lovely on the eternal hills her steps ! 

Restored to reason, on that mom, appeared 
The lunatic, who raved in chains, and asked 
No mercy when he died. Of lunacy, 
Innumerous were the causes ; humbled pride. 
Ambition disappointed, riches lost, 



178 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And bodily disease, and sorrow, oft 
By man inflicted on his brother man ; 
Sorrow that made tlie reason drunk, and yet 
Left much untasted — so the cup was filled ; 
Sorrow that, like an ocean, dark, deep, rough. 
And shoreless, rolled its billows o'er the soul 
Perpetually, and without hope of end. 

Take one example, one of female wo. 
Loved by a father and a mother's love, 
[n rural peace she lived, so fair, so light 
Of heart, so good, and young, that reason, scarce. 
The eye could credit, but would doubt, as she 
Did stoop to pull the lily or the rose 
From morning's dew, if it reality 
Of flesh and blood, or holy vision, saw, 
[n imagery of perfect womanhood. 
But short her bloom, her happiness was short. 
One saw her loveliness, and, with desire 
Unhallowed, burning, to her ear addressed 
Dishonest words : " Her favour was his life. 
Ills heaven ; her frown his wo, his night, his death.' 
With turgid phrase, thus wove in flattery's loom. 
He on her womanish nature won, and age 
Suspicionless, and ruined, and forsook. 
For he a chosen villain was at heart. 
And capable of deeds that durst not seek 
Repentance. Soon her father saw her shame, 
His heart grew stone, he drove her fortli to want 
And wintry winds, and with a horrid curse 
Pursued her ear, forbidding all return. 

Upon a hoary cliff", that watched the sea, 
Her babe was found — dead. On its little cheek, 
The tear that nature bade it weep, had turned 
An ice-drop, sparkling in the morning beam; 
And to the turf its helpless hands were frozen. 
For she, the woeful mother, had gone mad. 
And laid it down, I'egardless of its fate 
And of her own. Yet had she many days 



BOOK VIII. 179 

Of sorrow in the world, but never wept. 

She hved on ahns, and carried in her hand 

Some withered stalks she gathered in the spring. 

When any asked the cause, she smiled and said. 

They were her sisters, and would come and watch 

Her grave when she was dead. She never spoke 

Of her deceiver, father, mother, home, 

Or child, or heaven, or hell, or God, but still 

In lonely places walked, and ever gazed 

Upon the withered stalks, and talked to them J 

Till, wasted to the shadow of her youth, 

With wo too wide to see beyond, she died— 

Not unatoned for by impiUed blood. 

Nor by the Spirit, that mysterious works, 

Unsanctified. Aloud, her father cursed. 

That day, his guilty pride, which would not own 

A daughter, whom the God of heaven and earth 

Was not ashamed to call his own ; and he. 

Who ruined her, read from her holy look. 

That pierced him with perdition manifold. 

His sentence, burning with vindictive fire. 

The judge that took a bribe ; he who amiss 
Pleaded the widow's cause, and by delay 
Delaying ever, made the law at night 
More intricate than at the dawn, and on 
The morrow farther from a close, than when 
The ifun last set, till he who in the suit 
Was 'poorest, by his emptied coffers, proved 
His cause the worst ; and he that had the bag 
Of weights deceitful, and the balance false j 
And he that with a fraudful lip deceived 
In buying or in selling; — these, that morn, 
Found custom no excuse for sin, and knew 
Plain dealing was a virtue, but too late. 
And he that was supposed to do nor good 
Nor ill, surprised, could find no neutral grouni. 
And learned, that to do nothing was to serve 
The devil, and transgress the laws of God. 
The noisy cuack, that by profession lied, 



180 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And uttered falsehoods of enormous size, 
With countenance as grave as truth beseemed ; 
And he that Hed for pleasure, whom a lust 
Of being heard and making people stare. 
And a most steadfast hate of silence, drove 
Far wide of sacred truth, who never took 
The pains to think of what he was to say, 
But still made haste to speak, with weary tongue. 
Like copious stream for ever flowing on ; — 
Read clearly in the lettered heavens, what, long 
Before, they mi^ht have read, For every word 
Of folly, you, this day, shall give account ; 
And every liar shall his portion have 
Among the cursed, without the gates of life. 

With groans that made no pause, lamenting there 
Were seen the duellist and suicide. 
This thought, but thought amiss, that of himself 
He was entire proprietor ; and so, 
When he was tired of Time, with his own hand. 
He opened the portals of Eternity, 
And sooner than the devils hoped, arrived 
In hell. The otlier, of resentment quick. 
And, for a word, a look, a gesture, deemed 
Not scrupulously exact in all respect. 
Prompt to revenge, went to the cited field, 
For double murder armed, his own, and his 
That as himself he was ordained to love. 
The first, in pagan books of early times. 
Was heroism pronounced, and greatly praised. 
In fashion's glossary of later days. 
The last was honour called, and spirit high. 
Alas ! 'twas mortal spiiit, honour which 
Forgot to wake at the last trumpet's voice. 
Bearing the signuturR of Time alone, 
Uncurrent in Eternity, and base. 
Wise men suspected this before ; for they 
Could never understand what honour meant, 
Or why that should be honour termed, whicJj made 
Man murder man, and broke the laws of God 



BOOK Vlll. 181 

Most wantonly. Sometimes, indeed, tlie grave, 

And those of Christian creed imagined, spoke 

Admiringly of honour, lauding much 

The noble youth, who, after many rounds 

Of boxing, died; or, to the pistol shot 

His breast exposed, his soul to endless pain. 

But they who most admired, and understood 

This honour best, and on its altar laid 

Their lives, most obviously were fools ; and, what 

Fools only, and the wicked, understood. 

The wise agreed was some delusive Shade, 

That with the mist of time should disappear. 

Great day of revelation ! in the grave 
The hypocrite had left his mask, and stood 
In naked ugliness. He was a man 
Who stole the livery of the court of heaven. 
To serve the devil in ; in virtue's guise. 
Devoured the widow's house and orphan's bread ^ 
In holy phrase, transacted villanies 
That common sinners durst not meddle witli. 
At sacred feast, he sat among the saints, 
And with his guilty hands touched holiest things : 
And none of sin lamented more, or sighed 
More deeply, or with graver countenance. 
Or longer prayer, wept o'er the dying man. 
Whose infant children, at the moment, he 
Planned how to rob. In sermon style he bought. 
And sold, and lied ; and salutations made 
In Scripture terras. He prayed by quantity. 
And with his repetitions long and loud. 
All knees Avere weary. With one hand he put 
A penny in the urn of poverty, 
And with the other took a shilling out. 
On charitable list=, — those trumps which told 
The public ear, who had in secret done 
The poor a benefit, and half the alms 
They told of, took themselves to keep them soundings 
He blazed bis name, more pleased to have it there 
Tljant in the book of life. Seest thou the man ! 
P 



182 THJ; COURSE OF TIME. 

A. serpent with an angel's voice ! a grave 

With flowers bestrewed ! an^^ yet few were deceived. 

His virtues being over-done, his face 

Too grave, his prayers too long, his charities 

Too pompously attended, and his speech 

Larded too frequently and out of time 

With seiious phraseology, — were rents 

That in his garments opened in spite of him, 

Through which the well-accustomed eye could see 

The rottenness of his heart. None deeper blushed. 

As in the all-piercing light he stood, exposed, 

iNo longer herding with the holy ones. 

Yet still he tried to bring his countenance 

To sanctimonious seeming ; but, meanwhile. 

The shame within, now visil)le to all. 

His purpose balked. The righteous smiled, and even 

Despair itself some signs of laughter gave. 

As ineffectually he strove to wipe 

His brow, that inward gnihiness defiled. 

Detected wretch ! of all the reprobate. 

None seemed maturer for the flames of hell, 

Where still his face, from ancient custom, wears 

A holy air which says to all that pass 

Him by, " I was a hypocrite on earth." 

That was the hour which measured out to each. 
Impartially, Ins share of reputation, 
Correcting all mistakes, and from the name 
Of the good man all slanders wiping off". 
Good name was dear to all. Without it, none 
Could soundly sleep, even on a royal bed. 
Or drink with relish from a cup of gold ; 
And with it, on his borrowed straw, or by 
The leafless hedge, beneath the open heavens. 
The weary beggar took untroubled rest. 
It was a music of most heavenly tone, 
To which the heart leaped joyfully, and all 
The spirits danced. For honest fame, men laid 
Their heads upon the block, and, while the axe 
Descended, looked and smiled. It was of price 



183 



Invaluable. Riches, health, repose. 

Whole kinsdoiKi. life, were given for it, and he 

Who got i. wa? the winner still ; and he 

Who sold it durst not open his ear, nor look 

On human fa'-e, he knew himself so vile. 

Yet it, with all its preciousness, was due 

To Virtue, and around her should have shed, 

Unasked, its savoury smell ; but Vice, deformed 

Itself, and ugly, and of flavour rank. 

To rob fair Virtue of so sweet an incense, 

And with it to anoint and salve its ( wn 

Rotten ulceis, and perfume the path that led 

To death, — strove daily by a thousand means : 

And oft succeeded to make Virtue sour 

In the world's nostrils, and its loathly self 

Smell sweetly. Rumour wrs the messenger 

Of defamation, and so swift that none 

Could be the first to tell an evil tale; 

And was, withal, so infamous for licfi. 

That he who of lier sayings, on his creed. 

The fewest entered, was deemed wisest man. 

The fool, and many who had credit, too. 

For wisdom, grossly swallowed all she said, 

Uns'/tpd ; and although, at every word. 

They heard her contradict herself, and saw 

Hoyily they were imposed upon and mocked, 

Yet still they ran to hear her speak, and stixred. 

And wondered much, and stood aghast, and said 

It could not be; and, while tl'ey blushed for shame 

At their own faith, and seemed to doubt, believed. 

And whom they met, with many sanctions, told. 

So dill experience fail to teach ; — so hard 

It was to learn this simple truth, — confirmed 

At every corner by a thousand proofs, — 

That coiruoou Fame most impudently lied. 

'Twas Slander filled her mouth with lying words. 
Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin. The maa 
In whom this spirit entered was undone. 
His tongue was set on fire of hell, his heart 

13 



184 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Was black as death, his legs were faint with haste 
To propagate the lie his soul had framed. 
His pillow was the peace of families 
Destroyed, the sigh of innocence reproached, 
Broken friendships, and the strife of brotherhoods; 
Yet did he spare his sleep, and hear the clock 
Number the midnight watches, on his bed. 
Devising mischief more ; and early rose. 
And made most hellish meals of good men's names. 

From door to door you might have seen him speed, 
Or placed amidst a group of gaping fools. 
And wliispering in their ears, with his foul lips 
Peace fled the neighbourhood in which he made 
His haunts; and, like a moral pestilence, 
Before liis breath, the healthy shoots and blooms 
Of social joy and happiness, decayed. 
Fools only in his company were seen. 
And those forsaken of God, and to themselves 
Given up. The prudent shunned him and his house 
As one who had a deadly moral plague. 
And fain would all have shunned him at the day 
Of judgment ; but in vain. All who gave ear 
With greediness, or wittingly their tongues 
Made herald to his lies, around him wailed; 
While on his face, thrown back by injured men. 
In characters of ever-blushing shame. 
Appeared te;i thousand slanders, all his own. 

Among the accursed, who sought a hiding place 
In vain, from fierceness of Jehovah's rage. 
And from the hot displeasure of the Lamb, 
Most wretched, most contemptible, most vile, — 
Stood the false priest, and in his conscience felt. ,w> 
The fellest gnaw of the Undying Worm. 
And so he might, for he had on his hands 
The blood of souls, that would not wipe away. 
Hear what he was. He swore, in sight of God 
And man, to preach his master, Jesus Christ ; 
Yet preached himself: he swore tliat love of soulsj 



BOOK VIII. 185 

Alone, had drawn him to the church ; yet strewed 

The path that led to hell with tempting flowers. 

And in the ear of sinners, as they took 

The way of deatli, he whisphered peace : he swore 

Away all love of lucre, all desire 

Of earthly pomp ; and yet a princely seat 

He liked, and to the clink of Mammon's box 

Gave most rapacious ear. His prophecies, 

He swore, were from the Lord ; and yet, taught lies 

For gain : with quackish ointment, healed the wounds 

And bruises of the soul, outside, but left. 

Within, the pestilent matter unobserved. 

To sap the moral constitution quite, 

And soon to burst again, incurable. 

He with untempered mortar daubed the walls 

Of Zion, saying, Peace, when there was none. 

The man who came with thirsty soul to hear 

Of Jesus, went away unsatisfied ; 

For he another gospel preached than Paul, 

And one that had no Saviour in't ; and yet, 

His life was worse. Faith, charity, and love, 

Humihty, forgiveness, holiness. 

Were words well lettered in his sabbath creed ; 

But with his life he wrote as plain, Revenge, 

Pride, tyranny, and lust of wealth and power 

Inordinate, and lewdness unashamed. 

He was a wolf in clothing of the lamb, 

That stole into the fold of God, and on 

The blood of souls, which he did sell to death. 

Grew fat ; and yet, when any would have turned 

Him out, he cried, " Touch not the priest of God.'* 

And tliat he was anointed, fools believed ; 

But knew, that day, he was the devil's priest. 

Anointed by the hands of Sin and Death, 

And set peculiarly apart to ill, — 

While on him smoked the vials of perdition. 

Poured measureless. Ah me ! what cursing then 

Was heaped upon liis head by ruined souls. 

That charged him with their murder, as he stood. 

With eye of all the unredeemed most sad. 



186 THE COnRSE OF TIME. 

Waiting the coming of the Son of Man ? 
But let nie pause, for thou hast seen his place 
And punishment, beyond the sphere of love. 

Much was removed that tempted once to sin. 
Avarice no gold, no wine the di unkard, saw. 
But Envy had enough, as heretjfore. 
To fill his heart with gall and bitterness. 
What made the man of envy what he was, 
J Was worth in others, vileness in himself, 
A lust of praise, with undeserving deeds. 
And conscious poverty of soul : and still 
It was his earnest work and dnily toil. 
With lying tongue, to make the noble seem 
Mean as himself On fame's high hill he saw 
The laurel spread its everlasting green, 
And wished to climb ; but felt his knees too weak. 
And stood, below, unhappy, laying hands 
Upon the strong, ascending gloriously 
The steps of honour, bent to draw them back. 
Involving oft the briglitness of their path. 
In mists his breath had raised. Whene'er he heard. 
As oft he did, of joy and happiness. 
And great prosperity, and rising worth, 
'Twas like a wave of wormwood o'er his soul 
Rolling its bitterness. His joy was wo. 
The wo of others. When, from wealth to want. 
From praises to reproach, from peace to strife. 
From mirth to tears, he saw a brother fall. 
Or Virtue make a slip, — his dreams were sweet. 
But chief with Slandei', daughter of his own. 
He took unhallowed pleasure. When she talked. 
And with her filthy lips defiled the best. 
His ear drew near ; with wide attention gaped 
His mouth ; his eye, well pleased, as eager gazed 
As glutton, v-'hpu the dish he most desired 
Was placed before him ; and a horrid mirth. 
At intervals, with laughter shook nis sides. 
The critic, too, who, for a bit of bread. 
In book that fell aside before the inli 



BOOK VIII. 187 

Was dry, poured forth excessive nonsense, gave 

Him much delight. The critics, — some, liut few, — 

Were wortliy men, and earned renown which had 

Immortal roots ; but most were weak and vile. 

And, as a cloudy swarm of summer flies. 

With angry hum a.id slender lance, beset 

The sides of some huge animal ; so did 

They buzz about the illustrious man, and fain, 

With his immortal honour, down the stream 

Of fame would have descended ; but, alas ! 

The hand of Time drove them away. They were, 

Indeed, a simple race of men, who had 

One only art, which taught them still to say, 

Whate'er was done might have been better done ; 

And witlt^his art, not ill to learn, they made 

A shift to live. But, sometimes too, beneath 

The dust they raised, was worth a while obscured ; 

And then did Envy prophesy and laugh. 

O Envy ! hide thy bosom, hide it deep. 

A thousand snakes, with black, unvenomed mouths, 

Nest there, and hiss, and feed through all thy heart ! - 

Such one I saw, here interposing, said 
The new arrived, in that dark den of shame. 
Whom who hath seen shall never wish to see 
Again. Before him, in the infernal gloom, 
That omnipresent shape of Vntue stood 
On which he ever threw his eye ; and, like 
A cmder that had life and feeling, seemed 
His face, with inward pining, to be what 
He could not be. As being that had biu'ned 
Continually, in slow-consuming fire, — 
Half an eternity, and was to burn 
For evermoi-e, he looked. Oh ! sight to be 
Forgotten ! tliought too horrible to think \ 

But say, believing in such wo to come, 
Such dreadful certainty of endless pain, 
Could beings of forecasting mould, as thou 
Eriitlest men, deliberately walk on. 



168 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Unscared, and overleap their own belief 
Into the lake of ever-burning fire 1 

Thy tone of asking seems to make reply. 
And rightly seems : They did not so believe. 
Not one of all thou sawst lament and wail 
In Tophet, perfectly believed the word 
Of God, else none had thither gone. Absurd, 
To diiiik that beings, made with reason, formed 
To calculate, compare, choose, and reject. 
By nature taught, and self, and every sense, 
To choose the good, and pass the evil by. 
Could, with full credence of a time to come, 
When all the wicked should be really damned. 
And cast beyond the sphere of light and love. 
Have persevered in sin ! Too foolish this 
For fully in its prime. Can aught that thinks 
And wills choose certain evil, and reject 
Good, in his heart believing he does so'? 
Could man choose pain, instead of endless joy 1 
Mad supposition, though maintained by some 
Of honest mind. Behold a man condemned ! 
Either he ne'er inquired, and therefore he 
Could not believe ; or, else, he carelessly 
Inquired, and something other than the word 
Of God received into his cheated faith ; 
And therefore he did not believe, but down 
To hell descended, leaning on a lie. 

Faith was bewildered much by men who meant 
To make it clear, so simple in itself, 
A thought so rudimental and so plain, 
That none by comment could it plainer make. 
All faith was one. In object, not in kind, 
The diflference lay. The faith that saved a soul. 
And that which in the common truth believed, 
In essence, were the same. Hear, then, what faith. 
True, Christian faith, which brought salvation, was ; 
Belief in all that God revealed to men ; 
Observe, in all that God revealed to men, 



BOOK VIII. 189 

In all he promised, threatened, commanded, said. 
Without exception, and without a doubt. 
Who thus believed, being by the Spirit touched. 
As naturally the fruits of faith produced, 
Truth, temperance, meekness, holiness, and love. 
As human eye from darkness sought the light- 
How could he else 1 If he, who had firm faitli 
The morrow's sim should rise, ordered affairs 
Accordingly ', if he, who had firm faith 
That spring, and summer, and autumnal days, 
Should pass away, and winter really come. 
Prepared accordingly ; if he, who saw 
A bolt of death approaching, turned aside 
And let it pass ; — as surely did the man. 
Who verily believed the word of God, 
Though erring whiles, its general laws obey. 
Turn back from hell, and take the way to heaven. 

That faith was necessary, some alleged, 
Unreined and uncontrollable by will. 
Invention savouring much of hell ! Indeed, 
It was the master-stroke of wickedness. 
Last effort of Abaddon's council dark, 
To make man think himself a slave to fate, 
And, worst of all, a slave to fate in faith. 
For thus 'twas reasoned then : From faith alone. 
And from opinion, springs all action ; hence, 
If faith's compelled, so is all action too : 
But deeds compelled are not accountable ; 
So man is not amenable to God. 

Arguing that brought such monstrous birth, though 
good 
It seemed, must have been false. Most false it was. 
And by the book of God condemned, throughout. 
We freely own, that truth, when set before 
The mind, with perfect evidence, compelled 
Belief; but error lacked such witness, still : 
And none, who now lament in moral night. 
The word of God refused on evidence 



190 THE COURSE OF TIME 

That might not have been set aside as false. 
To reason, try, choose, and reject, was free. 
Hence God, by faith, acquitted, or condemned; 
Hence righteous men, with hherty of will, 
BeUeved ; and hence tlmu sawsi in Erebus 
The wicked, who as freely disbelieved 
What else had led them to the land of life. 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK IX. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK IX. 

The Book opens with an apostrophe to Religion. The 
Bard resumes his narrative, and. continuing the descrip- 
tion of the Assembly collected for Judgment, particular- 
izes several classes of the Redeemed. While he men- 
tions the classes, he points them out as they appear on 
the heavenly summits rejoicing. 

First among the holy shone the faithful minister of God. 
The religious philosopher appeared in uncommon glory. 
The righteous governor and uncorrupted statesman, the 
man of active benevolence, and the Christian poet, were 
each conspicuous. None of the Redeemed were obscure, 
and multitudes were illustrious that had no name on 
earth. 

The Bard mentions the effect produced on the minds of 
the assembled multitudes by the absolute certainties of 
their situation, by the correct judgments they now form- 
ed, the just impressions they had of themselves, and the 
predictions they saw fulfilled. 

Suddenly a host of Angels appear, and the vast multitude 
of good and bad are separated to right and left in the 
final parting ; the righteous being gathered with joy 
beneath a canopy of golden beams ; the wicked bound 
under a dark and thundering cloud of wrath, where 
stood also Satan and his host, waiting for Judgment and 
the vengeance due to his rebellion in heaven, and his 
stratagems on earth. Thus separated, the Redeeme-'^ 
and the Reprobate stand expecting the Judge, and read~ 
ing, upon either side of a bright arch bending high bo 
tween thera a thrilling inscription 



THB 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK IX. 



Fairest of those that left the calm of heaven. 

And ventured down to man, with words of peace. 

Daughter of Grace ! known by whatever name, 

Religion, Virtue, Piety, or Love 

Of Holiness, the day of thy reward 

Was come. Ah ! thou wast long despised, despised 

By those thou wooedst from death to endless life 

Modest and meek, in garments white as those 

That seraphs wear, and countenance as mild 

As Mercy looking on Repentance' tear ; 

With eye of purity, now darted up 

To God's eternal throne, now humbly bert 

Upon thyself, and, weeping down thy cheek, 

That glowed with universal love immense, 

A tear, pure as the dews that fall in heaven; 

In thy left hand, the olive branch, and in 

Thy right, tlie crown of immortality ; — 

With noiseless foot, thou walkedst the vales of earthy 

Beseeching men, from age to age, to turn 

From utter death, to turn from wo to bliss; 

Beseeching evermore, and evermore 

Despised — not evermore despised, not now, 

Not at the day of doom ; most lovely then. 



192 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Most honourable, thou appeared, and most 

To be desired. The guilty heard the song 

Of thy redeemed, how loud ! and saw thy face 

How fair ! Alas ! it was too late ! the hour 

Of making friends was pass.ed, thy favour then 

Might not be sought ; but recollection, sad 

And accurate, as miser counting o'er 

And o'er again the sum he must lay out, 

Distinctly in the wicked's ear rehearsed 

Each opportunity despised and lost. 

While on them gleamed thy holy look, that like 

A fiery torrent went into their souls. 

The day of thy reward \vas come, the day 

Of great remuneration to thy friends. 

To those, known by whatever name, who sought. 

In every place, in every time, to do 

Unfeigiiedly their Maker's will, revealed. 

Or g .thered else from nature's school ; well pleased 

With God's applause alone, that, like a stream 

Of sweetest melody, at still of night 

By wanderer heard, in their most secret ear 

For ever whispered. Peace ; and, as a string 

Of kindred tone awoke, their inmost soul 

Responsive answered, Peace; inquiring still 

And searching, night and day, to know their duty. 

When known, with undisputing trust, with love 

Unquenchable, with zeal, by reason's lamp 

Inflamed, — performing; and to Him, by whose 

Profound, all-calculating skill alone. 

Results — results even of the slightest act. 

Are fully grasped, wilh unsuspicious faith. 

All consequences leaving ; to abound. 

Or want, alike prepared ; who knew to be 

Exalted how, and how to be abased ; 

How best to live, and how to die when asked. - 

Their prayers sincere, their alms in seciet done. 

Their fightings with themselves, their abstinence 

From pleasure, though by mortal eye unseen. 

Their hearts of resignation to the will 

Of Heaven, their patient bearing of reproach 



193 



And shame, their charity, and faith, and hope, — 

Thou didst remember, and in full repaid. 

No bankrupt thou, who, at the bargained hour 

Of payment due, sent to his creditors 

A tale of losses and mischances, long. 

Ensured by God himself, and from the stores 

And treasures of his wealth, at will supplied, — 

Religion, thou alone, of all that men. 

On earth, gave credit, to be reimbursed 

On the other side the grave, didst keep thy word. 

Thy day, and all thy promises fulfilled. 

As in the mind, rich widi unborrowed wealth. 
Where multitudes of thoughts for utterance strive, 
And all so fair, that each seems worthy first 
To enter on the tongue, and from the lips 
Have passage forth, — selection hesitates 
Perplexed, and loses time, anxious, since all 
Cannot be taken, to take the best ; and yet 
Afraid, lest what he left be wortliier still; 
And grieving much, where all so goodly look, 
To leave rejected one, or in the rear 
Let any be obscured : so did the bard. 
Though not unskilled, as on that multitude 
Of men who once awoke to judgment, he 
Threw back reflection, hesitating pause. 
For as his harp, in tone severe, had sung 
What figure the most famous sinners made, 
When from the grave they rose unmasked ; so did 
He wish to character the good ; but yet. 
Among so many, glorious all, all worth 
[mmortal fmie, with whom begin, with whom 
To end, was difficult to choose ; and long 
His auditors, upon the tiptoe raised 
Of expectation, might have kept, had not 
His eye — for so it is in heaven, that what 
Is needed always is at hand — beheld. 
That moment, on a mountain near the throne 
Of God, the most renowned of the redeemed. 
Rejoicing : nor who first, who most, to praise. 



194 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Dabated more ; but thus, with sweeter note. 
Well pleased to sing, with highest eulogy, 
And first, whom God applauded most, — began. 

With patient ear, thou now hast heard, — though 
whiles, 
Aside digressing, ancient feeling turned 
My lyre, — what shame the wcked had, that day 
What wailing, what remorse ; so hear, in brief, 
How bold the righteous stood, the men redeemed. 
How fair in virtue, and in hope how glad ! 
And first among the holy shone, as best 
Became, the faithful minister of God. 

See where he walks on yonder mount that lifts 
Its summit high, on the right hand of bliss. 
Sublime in glory, talking with his peers 
Of the incarnate Saviour's love, and passed 
Affliction lost in present joy ! See how 
His face with heavenly ardour glows, and how 
His hand, enraptured, strikes the golden lyre ! 
As now, conversing of the Lamb, once slain. 
He speaks ; and now, from vines that never hear 
Of winter, but in monthly harvest yield 
Their fruit abundantly, he plucks the grapes 
Of life ! But what he was on earth it most 
Behoves to say. Elect by God himself, 
Anointed by the Holy Ghost, and set 
Apart to the great work of saving men ; 
Instructed fully in the wiil divins. 
Supplied with grace in store, as need might ask. 
And with the stamp and signature of heaven, 
Trudi, mercy, patience, holiness, and love, 
Accredited ; — he was a man, by God, 
The Lord, commissioned to make known to meni 
Tlie eternal counsels ; in his Master's name. 
To treat with them of everlasting things. 
Of life, death, bliss, and wo ; to offer terms 
Of pardon, grace, and peace, to the rebelled j 
To teach the ignorant soul, to cheer the sad ; 



195 



To bind, to loose, with all authority ; 

To give the feeble strength, the hopeless hope. 

To help the halting, and to lead tlie blind; 

To warn the careless, heal the sick of heart. 

Arouse the indolent, and on the proud 

And obstinate ofiender to denounce 

The wrath of God. All other men, what name 

Soe'er they bore, whatever office held, 

If lawful held, — the magistrate supreme. 

Or else subordinate, were chosen by men, 

'I'heir fellows, and from men derived their power. 

And were accountable, for all they did, 

To men ; but he, alone, his office held 

Immediately from God, from God received 

Authority, and was to none but God 

Amenable. The elders of the church, 

Indeed, upon him laid their hands, and set 

Ilim visibly apart to preach the word 

Of life ; but this was merely outward rite 

And decent ceremonial, performed 

On all alike; and oft, as thou hast heard, 

Performed on those God never sent ; his call, 

His consecration, his anointing, all 

Were inward, in the conscience heard and felt. 

Tints, by Jehovah chosen, and ordained 

To take into his charge the souls of men, 

And for his trust to answer at the day 

Of judgment, — great plenipotent of heaven, 

And representative of God on earth, — 

Fearless of men and devils ; unabashed 

By sin enthroned, or mockery of a pnnce, 

Unavved by armed legions, unseduced 

By offered bribes, burning with love to souls. 

Unquenchable, and mindful still of his 

Great charge and vast responsibility ; — 

High in the temple of the living God, 

He stood, amidst the people, and declared 

Aloud the truth, the whole revealed truth. 

Ready to seal it with his blood. Divine 

itesemblance most complete ! with mercy now 

Q 



196 Till: COURSE OF TIMK. 

And love, his foce, illumed, shone gloriously j 

And frowning now indignantly, it seemed 

As if offended Justice, from his eye. 

Streamed forth vindictive wrath! Men heard, alarmecL 

The uncircumcised infidel believed ; ' 

Light-though ted Mirth grew serious, and weptj 

The laugh profane sunk in a sigh of deep 

Repentance, the blasphemer, kneeling, prayed. 

And; prostrate in the dust, for mercy called ; 

And cursed, old, forsaken sinners gnashed 

Their teeth, as if their hour had been arrived. 

Such was his calling, his commission such. 

Yet he was humlile, kind, forgiving, meek, 

Easy to be entreated, gracious, mild j 

And, with all patience and affection, taught, 

Rebuked, persuaded, solaced, counselled, warned. 

In fervent style and manner. Needy, poor. 

And dying men, like music, heard his feet 

Approach their beds ; and guilty wretches took 

New hope, and' in his prayers wept and smiled. 

And blessed him, as they died forgiven ; and all 

Saw in his face contentment, in his life. 

The path to glory and perpetual joy. 

Deep-learned in the philosophy of heaven, 

He searched the causes out of good and ill, 

Profoundly calculating their effects 

Far past the bounds of Time ; and balancing, 

In the arithmetic of future things. 

The loss and profit of the soul to all 

Eternity. A skilful workman he 

In God's great moral vineyai'd : what to prune 

With cautious hand he knew, what to uproot ; 

What were mere weeds, and what celestial plants 

Wliich had unfading vigour in them, knew; 

Nor knew alone, but watched them night and day, 

And reared and nourished them, till fit to be 

Transplanted to the Paradise above. 

Oh! who can speak his praise ! great, hunnble man ! 
He in the ciu-rent of destraction stood 



BOOK IX. 197 

And warned the sinner of his wo ; led on 

Immamiel's members in the evil day ; 

And, with the everlasting arms embraced 

Himself around, stood in the dreadful front 

Of battle, high, and warred victoriously 

With death and hell. And now was come his rest. 

His triumpli day. Illustrious like a sun. 

In that assembly, he, shining from far. 

Most excellent in glory, stood assured. 

Waiting the promised crown, the promised tlirone. 

The welcome and approval of his Lord. 

Nor one alone, but many — prophets, priests^ 

Apostles, great reformers, all that served 

Messiah faithfully, like stars appeared 

Of fairest beam ; and round them gathered, clad 

In white, the vouchers of their ministry — 

The flock their care had nourished, fed, and saved 

Nor yet in common glory blazing, stood 
The true philosopher, decided friend 
Of truth and man. Determined foe of all 
Deception, calm, collected, patient, wise, 
And humble, undeceived by outward shape 
Of things, by fashion's revelry uncharmed. 
By honour unbewitched, — hclcft the chase 
Of vanity, and all the quackeries 
Of life, to fools and heroes, or whoe'er 
Desired them ; and with reason, much despised. 
Traduced, yet heavenly reason, to the shade 
j^etired — retired, but no', to dream, or build 
Of ghostly fancies, seen in the deep noon 
Of sleep, ill-balanced theories ; retired. 
But did not leave mankind ; in pity, not 
In wrath, retired ; and still, though distant, kept 
His eye on men ; at proper angle took 
His stand to see them better, and, lieyond 
The clamour which the bells of folly made, 
That most had hung about them, to consult 
With nature, how their madness might be cured, 
And how their true substantial comforts might 
14 



198 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Be multiplied. Religious man ! what God 
By prophets, priests, evangelists, revealed 
Of sacred truth, he thankfully received, 
And, by its light directed, went in search 
Of more. Before him, darkness fled ; and all 
The goblin tribe, that hung upon the bi-easts 
Of Night, and haunted still the moral gloom 
With shapeless forms, and blue, infernal lights. 
And indistinct, and devilish whisperings, 
That the miseducated fancies vexed 
Of superstitious men, — at his approach, 
Dispersed, invisible. Where'er he went, 
Tliis lesson stiL he taught, To fear no ill 
But sin, no being but Almighty God. 
All-comprehending sage ! too hard alone 
For him was man's salvation ; all besides. 
Of use or comfort, that distinction made 
Between the desperate savage, scarcely raised 
Above the beast whose flesh he ate, undressed. 
And the most polished of the human race. 
Was product of his persevering search. 
Religion owed him much, as from the false 
Siie suffei-ed much ; for still liis main design, 
In all his contemplations, was to trace 
The wisdom, providence, and love of God, 
And to his fellows, less observant, show 
Them forth. From prejudice redeemed, with all 
His passions still, above the common world. 
Sublime in reason and in aim sublime, 
He sat, and on the marvellous works of God 
Sedately thought ; now glancing up his eye. 
Intelligent, through all the starry dance. 
And penetratincr now the deep remote 
Of central causes in the womb opaque 
Of matter hid ; now with inspection nice, 
Entering the mystic labyrinths of the mind. 
Where thought, of notice ever shy, behind 
Thought, disappearing, still retired; and still, 
I'liought meeting thought, and thought awakening 
thought. 



199 



And mingling still with thought in endless maze, — 
Bewildered observation ; now, with eye 
Yet more severely purged, looking far down 
Into the heart, where passion wove a web 
Of thousand thousand threads, in grain and hue 
All difierent ; then, upward venturing whiles. 
But reverently, and in his hand, the light 
Revealed, near the eternal Throne, he gazed, 
Pliilosophizing less than worshipping. 
Most truly great ! his intellectual strength 
And knowledge vast, to men of lesser mind. 
Seemed infinite ; yet, from his high pursuits. 
And reasonings most profound, he still returned 
Home, with an humbler and a warmer heart : 
And none so lowly bowed before his God, i 
As none so well His awful majesty 
And goodness comprehended ; or so well 
His own dependency and weakness knew. 

How glorious now, with vision purified 
At the Essential Truth, entirely free 
From error, he, investigating still, — 
For knowledge is not found, unsought, in heaven ,- 
From world to world, at pleasure, roves, on wing 
Of golden ray upborne ; or, at the feet 
Of heaven's most ancient sages, silting, hears 
New wonders of the wondrous works of God ! 

Illustrious too, that morning, stood the man 
txalted by the people, to the throne 
Of government, established on the base 
Of justice, Uberty, and equal right; 
Who, in his countenance sublime, expressed 
A nation's majesty, and yet was meek 
And humble ; and in royal palace gave 
Example to the meanest, of the fear 
Of God, and all integrity of life 
And manners ; who. august, yet lowly ; who. 
Severe, yet gracious ; in his very heart, 
Detesting all oppression, all intent 
Of private aggrandizement j and, the first 
14 



200 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

In every public duty, held the scales 

Of justice, and as the law, which reigned in him, 

Commp.ndecl, gave rewards ; or, with the edge 

Vindictive, smote, naw light, now heavily, 

According to the stature of the crime. 

Conspicuous like an oak of healthiest bough, 

Deep-rooted in liis country's love, he stood. 

And gave his hand to Virtue, helping up 

The honest man to honour and renown ; 

And, with the look which goodness wears in wrath, 

Withering the very blood of Knavery, 

And from his presence driving far, ashamed. 

Nor less remaikable, among the blessed, 
Appeai-ed the man, who, in the senate-house. 
Watchful, uuliired, nnl^ribed, and uncorrupt, 
And party only to the common weal, 
Tn virtue's awful rag»^ pleaded for right. 
With truth so clear, with argument so strong, 
With action so sincere, and tone so loud 
And deep, as made the despot quake behind 
His adamantine g:Ues, and every joint. 
In terror, suiite his follow-joint relaxed; 
Or, marching to the field, in burnished steel. 
While, frowning on his»brow, tremendous hung 
The wrath of a whole people, long provoked,— 
Mustered the stormy wings of war, in day 
Of dreadful deeds ; and led the battle on. 
When Liberty, swift as the fires of heaven, 
In fury rode, with all her hosts, and threw 
The tyrant down, or drove invasion back. 
Illustrious he — illustrious all appeared, 
Who ruled supreme in righteousness ; or held 
Inferior place, in steadfast rectitude 
Of soul. Peculiarly severe had been 
The nurture of their youth, their knowledge great. 
Great was their wisdom, great their cares, and i;reat 
Their self-denial, and their service done 
To God and man ; and great was their reward. 
At hand, proportioned to their worthy deeds. 



BOOK IX. 201 

Breatlie all thy minstrelsy, immortal Harp ! 
Breathe numbers warm v,ith love, while I rehearse — 
Delighted theme, resembling most the songs 
Wljich, day and night, are sung before the Lamb ! — 
Thy praise, O Charity ! thy labours most 
Divine ; thy sympathy with sighs, and tears. 
And groans ; thy great, thy god-like wish, to heal 
All misery, all fortune's wounds, and make 
The soul of every living thing rejoice. 
O thou wast needed much in days of Time ! 
No virtue, half so much ! — None half so fair ! 
To all the rest, however fine, thou gavest 
A finishing and polish, without which 
No man e'er entered heaven. Let me record 
His praise, the man of great benevolence. 
Who pressed thee closely to his glowi.ng heart, 
And to thy gentle bidding made his feet 
Swift minister. Of all mankind, his soul 
Was most in harmony with heaven : as one 
Sole family of brothers, sisters, friends. 
One in their origin, one in their rights 
To all the common gifts of providence, 
And in their hopes, dieir joys, and sorrows one. 
He viewed the universal human race. 
He needed not a law of state, to force 
Grudging submission to the law of God. 
The law of love wa^: in his heart, alive ; 
What he possessed, he counted not his own. 
But, like a faithful steward in a house 
Of public alms, what freely he received 
He freely gave, distributing to all 
The helpless the last mite beyond his own 
Temperate support, and reckoning still the gift 
But justice, due to want; and so^t was. 
Although the world, with compliment not ill 
Applied, adorned it with a fairer name. 
Nor did he wait till to his door the voice 
Of supplication came, but went abroad, 
With foot as silent as tiie starry dews. 
In search of misery that pined unseen, 



202 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And would not ask. And who can tell what sights 

He saw ! what groans he heard, in that cold world 

Below ! where Sin, in league wiUi gloomy Death, 

Marched daily through the length and breadth of all 

The land, wasting at will, and making earth. 

Fair eartli ! a lazar-house, a dungeon dark. 

Where Disappointment fed on rained Hope, 

Where Guilt, worn out, leaned on the triple edge 

Of want, remorse, despair ; where Cruelty 

Reached forth a cup of wormwood to the lips 

Of Sorrow, that to deeper Sorrow wailed ; 

Where Mockery, and Disease, and Poverty, 

Met miserable Age, erewiiile sore bent 

With iiis own burden ; where the arrowy winds 

Of winter pierced the naked orphan babe. 

And chilled the mother's heait, who had no home j 

And where, alas ! in mid-time of his day, 

The honest man, robbed by some villain's hand. 

Or with long sickness pale, and paler yet 

With want and hunger, oft drank bitter draughts 

Of his own tears, and had no bread to eat. 

Oh ! who can tell what sights he saw, what shapes 

Of wretchedness ! or who describe what smiles 

Of gratitude illumined the face of wo. 

While from his hand he gave the bounty forth ! 

As when the Sun, to Cancer wheeling back, 

Returned from Capricorn, and showed the north. 

That long had lain in cold and cheerless night. 

His beamy countenance ; all nature then 

Rejoiced togethei- glad ; the Hower looked up 

And smiled ; the forest, from his locks, shook off 

The hoary frosts, and clapped his hands ; the birds 

Awoke, and, singing, rose to meet the day; 

And from his hollow den, where many months 

He slumbered sad in darkness, blithe and light 

Of heart the savage sprung, and saw again 

Iiis mountains shine, and with new songs of love 

Allured the virgin's ear : so did the house. 

The prison-house of guilt, and all the abodes 

Of unprovided helplessness, revive. 



BOOK IX. 203 

As on them looked tlie sunny messenger 

Of Charity. By angels tended still, 

That marked his deeds, and wrote them m the book 

Of God's remembrance ; careless he to be 

Observed of men, or have each mite bestowed 

Recorded punctually, with name and place. 

In every bill of news. Pleased to do good, 

He gave, and sought no more, nor questioned much 

Nor reasoned, who deserved ; for well he knew 

The face of need. Ah me ! who could mistake 1 

The shame to ask, the want that urged witliin, 

Composed a look so perfectly distinct 

From all else human, and withal so full 

Of misery, that none could pass, untouched, 

And be a Christian, or thereafter claim. 

In any form, the name or rights of man. 

Or, at the day of judgment, lift his eye ; 

Wliile he, in name of Christ, who gave the poor 

A cup of water, or a bit of bread. 

Impatient for his advent, waiting stood, 

Glowing in robes of love and holiness. 

Heaven's fairest dress ! and round him ranged, in white^ 

A thousand witnesses appeared, prepared 

To tell his gracious deeds before the Throne. 

Nor unrenowned among the most renowned. 
Nor 'mong the fairest unadmired, that morn, 
When highest fame was proof of highest worth 
Distinguished stood the bard : not he, who sold 
The incommunicable, heavenly gift, 
To Folly, and with lyre of peifect tone, 
Prepared by God himself, for holiest praise, — 
Vilest of traitors ! most dishonest man ! — 
Sat by the door of Ruin, and made there 
A melody so sweet, and in the mouth 
Of drunkenness and debauch, that else had croaked 
In natural discordance jarring harsh, 
Put so divine a song, that many turned 
Aside, and entered in undone, and thought, 
Meanwhile, it was die gate of heaven, so Uke 



204 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

An angel's voice the music seemed ; nor he. 

Who, whining grievously of damsel coy, 

Or blaming fortune, tliat would nothing give 

For doing naught, in indolent lament 

Unprofitable, passed his piteous days. 

Making himself the hero of his tale, 

Deserving ill the poet's name : but he, 

The bard, by God's own hand anointed, who, 

To Virtue's all-delighting harmony. 

His numbers tuned : who, from the fount of truth, 

Poured melody, and beauty poured, and love. 

In holy stream, into the human heart ; 

And, from the height of lofty argument. 

Who "justified the ways of God to man," 

And sung what still he sing;;, approved, in heaven 

Though now with bolder ntjle, above the damp 

Te.rrestrrdl, which the pure celestial fire 

Cooled, and restrained in part his riaming wing. 

Philosophy was deemed of deeper thought, 
And judgment more severe, than Poetry ; 
To fable, she, and fancy, more inclined. 
And yet, if Fancy, as was understood, 
Was of creative nature, or of power. 
With self-wrought stuff, to build a fabric up. 
To mortal vision wonderful and strange, 
Philosophy, the theoretic, claimed, 
Undouljtedly, the first and highest place 
In Fancy's favour. Her material souls. 
Her chance, her atoms shaped alike, her white 
Proved black, her universal nothing, all ; 
And all her v»'ondrous systems, how the mind 
With matter met ; how man was free, and yet 
All pre-ordained ; how evil first began ; 
And chief, her speculations, soarings high, 
Of the eternal, uncreated Mind, 
Which left all reason infinitely far 
Behind — surprising feat of theory ! — 
Were pure creation of her own, webs wove 
Of gossamer in Fancy's lightest loom. 



BOOK IX. 205 

And no where, on the list of being made 
By God, recorded : but her look, meanwhile. 
Was grave and studious ; and many thought 
She reasoned deeply, when she wildly raved. 

The true, legitimate, anointed bard. 
Whose song through ages poured its melody. 
Was most severely thoughtful, most minute 
And accurate of observation, most 
Familiarly acquainted with all modes 
And phases of existence. True, no doubt. 
He had originally drunk, from out 
The fount of life and love, a double draught, 
That gave whate'er he touched a double life : 
But this was mere desire at first, and power 
Devoid of means to work by ; need was still 
Of perseverinj:^, quick, inspective mood 
Of mind, of fiiith^ul memory, vastly stored, 
From universal bymg's ample field. 
With knowledge ; and a judgment, sound and clear, 
Well disciplined in nature's rules of taste ; 
Discerning to select, arrange, combine. 
From infinite variety, and still 
To nature true ; and guide withal, hard task. 
The sacred, living impetus divine, 
Discreetly through the harmony of song. 
Completed thus, the poet sung ; and age 
To age, enraptured, heard his measures flow j 
Enraptured, for he poured the veiy fat 
And marrow of existence through his verse, 
And gave the soul, that else, in selfish cold, 
Unwarmed by kindred interest, had lain, 
A roomy life, a glowing relish high, 
A sweet, expansive brotherhood of being — 
Joy answering joy, and sigh responding sigh. 
Through all the fibres of the social heart. 
Observant, sympathetic, sound of head. 
Upon the ocean vast of human thoue[ht, 
With passion rough and stormy, vertpring out, 
Even as the living billows rolled, lie threw 



206 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

His numbers over them, seized as they were. 
And to perpetual ages left them fixed, 
To each, a mirror of itself displayed; 
Despair for ever lowering dark on Sin, 
And Happiness on Virtue smiling fair. 

He was the minister of fame, and gave 
To whom he would renown ; nor missed himself— 
Although despising much the idiot roar 
Of popular applause, that sudden, oft. 
Unnaturally turning, whom it nursed 
Itself devoured — the lasting fame, the praise 
Of God and holy men, to excellence given. 
Yet less he souglit his own renown, than wished 
To have the eternal images of truth 
And beauty, pictured in his verse, admired. 
'Twas these, taking immortal shape and form 
Beneath his eye, that charmed his midnight watcl^ 
And oft his soul with awful transports shook 
Of happiness, unfelt by other men. 
This was that spell, that sorcery, which bound 
The poet to the lyre, and would not let 
Him go ; that hidden mystery of joy, 
Which made him sing in spite of fortune's worst ; 
And was, at once, both motive and reward. 

Nor now among the choral harps, in this 
The native clime of song, are those unknown. 
With higher note ascending, who, below. 
In holy ardour, aimed at lofty strains. 
True fame is never lost : many, whose names 
Were honoured much on earth, are famous here 
For poetry, and, with arch-angel harps. 
Hold no unequal rivalry in song ; 
Leading the choirs of heaven, in numbers high. 
In numbers ever sweet and ever new. 

Behold them yonder, where the river pure 
Flows warbling down before the throne of God J 
And, shading on each side, the tree of life 



207 



Spreads its unfading boughs ! — See how they shine, 
In garments white, quaffing deep draughts of love. 
And harping on their harps, new harmonies 
Preparing for the ear of God, Most High ! 

But why should I, of individual worth. 
Of individual glory, longer sing 1 
No true believer was, that daj, obscure ; 
No holy soul but had enough of joy ; 
No pious wish without its full reward. 
Wlio in the Father and the Son believed, 
With faith that wrought by love to holy deeds. 
And purified the heart, none trembled there. 
Nor had by earthly guise his rank concealed ; 
Whether, unknown, he tilled the ground remote, 
OVjservant of the seasons, and adored 
God in the promise, yearly verified, 
Of seed-time, harvest, summer, winter, day 
And night, returning duly at the time 
Appointed ; or, on the shadowy mountain side, 
Worshipped at dewy eve, watching his flocks ; 
Or, trading, saw the wonders of the deep, 
And as the needle to the starry Pole 
Turned constantly, so he his heart to God ; 
Or else, in servitude severe, was taught 
To break the bonds of sin ; or, begging, learned 
To trust the Providence that fed the raven. 
And clothed the lily with her annual gown. 

Most numerous, indeed, among the saved. 
And many, too, not least illustrious, shone 
The men who had no name on earth. Eclipsed 
By lowly circumstance, they lived unknown. 
Like stream that in the desert warbles clear. 
Still nursing, as it goes, the herb and flower. 
Though never seen ; or like the star, retired 
In solitudes of ether, far beyond 
All sight, not of essential splendour less, 
Though shining unobserved. None s?.w their pure 
Devotion, none their tears, their faith, and love. 



208 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Which burned within them, both to God and man, — 
None saw but God. He, in his bottle, all 
Their tears preserved, and every holy wish 
Wiote in his book; and, not as they had done, 
But as they wished with all their heart to do. 
Arrayed them now in glory, and displayed, — 
No longer hid by coarse, uncourtly garb, — 
In lustre equal to their inward worth. 

Plan's time was passed, and his eternity 
Begun. No tear remained of change. The youth. 
Who, in the glowing morn of vigorous life, 
High-reaching after great religious deeds, 
Was suddenly cut off, with all his hopes 
In sunny bloom, and unaccomplished left 
His withered aims, — saw everlasting days, 
Before him, dawning rise, in which to achieve 
All glorious things, and get himself the name 
That jealous Death too soon forbade on earth. 

Old things had passed away, and all was new j 
And yet, of all the new-begun, naught so 
Prodigious difference made, in the affairs 
And thoughts of every man, as certainty. 
For doubt, all doubt, was gone, of every kind ; 
Doubt that erewhile, beneath the lowest base 
Of mortal reasonings, deepest laid, crept in. 
And made the strongest, best cemented towers 
Of human workmanship, so weakly shake. 
And to their lofty tops so waver still. 
That those who built them, feared their sudden fall. 
But doubt, all doubt, was passed ; and, in its place. 
To every thought that in the hear t of man 
Was present, now had come an absolute. 
Unquestionable certainty, which gave 
To each decision of the mind immense 
Importance, raising to its proper height 
The sequent tide of passion, whether joy 
Or grief. The good man knew, in very truth, 
That he was saved to all eternity. 



BOOK IX 209 

And feared no more ; the bad had proof complete. 
That he was damned forever ; and believed 
Entirely, that on every wicked soul 
Anguish should come, and wratli, and utter wo. 

Knowledge was much increased, but wisdom mor 
The film of Time, that still before the sight 
Of mortal vision danced, and led the best 
Astray, pursuing unsubstantial dreams. 
Had dropped from every eye. Men saw that thev 
Had vexed thewiselves in vain, to understand 
What now no hope to "\)derstand remained ; 
That they had often counted evil good. 
And good for ill ; laughed when they should have wept 
And wept, forlorn, when God intended mirth. 
But what, of all their follies passed, surprised 
Them most, and seemed most totally insane 
And unaccountable, was value set 
On objects of a day, was serious grief 
Or joy for loss or gain of mortal things. 
So utterly impossible it seemed. 
When men their proper interests saw, that aught 
Of terminable kind, that aught, which e'er 
Could die, or cease to be, however named. 
Should make a human soul — a legal heir 
Of everlasting ^ears — rejoice or weep. 
In earnest mood ; for nothing now seemed wortli 
A thought, but had eternal bearing in't. 

Much truth had been assented to in Time, 
Which never, till this day, bad made a due 
Impression on the heart. Take one example. 
Early from heaven it was revealed, and oft 
Repeated in the world, from pulpits preached. 
And penned and read in holy books, that God 
Respected not the persons of mankind. 
Had this been truly credited and felt. 
The king, in purple robe, had owned, indeed. 
The beggar for his brother ; pride of rank 
And office thawed into paternal love; 



210 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Oppression feared the day of equal rights. 

Predicted ; covetous extortion kept 

In mind the hour of reckoning, soon to come ; 

And bribed injustice thought of being judged. 

When he should stand, on equal foot, beside 

The man he wronged, and surely — nay, 'tis true, 

Most true, beyond all whispering of doubt. 

That he, who lifted up the reeking scourge. 

Dripping with gore from the slave's back, before 

He struck again, had paused, and seriously 

Of that trijjunal thouglit, where God himself 

Should look him in the face, and ask in wrath, 

•' Why didst thou this '? Man ! was he not thy brother 

Bone of thy bone, and flesh and blood of thine V 

But, ah ! this truth, by heaven and reason taught. 

Was never fully credited on earth. 

The titled, flattered, lofty men of power. 

Whose wealth bought verdicts of applause for deeds 

Of wickedness, could ne'er believe the time 

Should truly come when judgment should proceed 

Impartially against them, and they, too. 

Have no good speaker at the Judge's ear. 

No witnesses to bring them off for gold. 

No power to turn the sentence from its course 3 

And they of low estate, who saw themselves. 

Day after day, despised, and wi'onged, and mocked. 

Without redress, could scarcely think the day 

Should e'er arrive, when they, m truth, should stand 

On perfect level with the potentates 

And princes of the earth, and have their cause 

Examined fairly, and their rights allowed. 

But now this truth was felt, believed and felt. 

That men were really of a common stock, 

That no man ever had been more than man. 

Much prophecy — revealed by holy bards. 
Who sung the will of heaven by Judah's stream — 
Much prophecy, that waited long, the scoff 
Of lips uncircumcised, was then fulfilled ; 
To tlie last tittle scrupulously fulfilled 



. i^ BOOK IX. 211 

%m 

^ was foretold by those of ancient days, 
A time should come, when wickedness should weep, 
i^Lbased ; when every lofty look of man 
Should be bowed down, and all his haughtiness 
Made low ; when righteousness alone should lift 
The head in glory, and rejoice at heart ; 
When many, first in splendour and renown. 
Should be most vile ; and many, lowest once. 
And last in Poverty's obscurest nook, 
Highest and first in honour, should be seen, 
Exalted ; and when some, when all the good^ 
Should rise to glory and eternal life ; 
And all the bad, lamenting, wake, condemned 
To shame, contempt, and everlasting grief. 

These projAecies had tarried long, so long 
That many wagged the head, and, taunting, asked, 
«' When shall they come V but asked no more, nor 

mocked : 
For the repi-oach of prophecy was wiped 
Away, and every word of God found true. 

And, oh ! what change of state, what change of ra.ik , 

In that assembly everywhere was seen ! 
1 The humble-hearted laughed, the lofty mourned, 
' And every man, according to his works 

Wrought in the body, there took charactei-. 

Thus stood they mixed, all generations stood t 

Of all mankind, innumerable throng ! 

Great harvest of the gi-ave ! — waiting tlie will 
j Of heaven, attentively and silent all, 
! As forest spreading out beneath the calm 
I Of evening skies, when even the single leaf 
I Is heard distinctly rustle down and fall ; 

So silent they, when from above, the sound 

Of rapid wheels approached, and suddenly 
I In heaven appeared a host of angels strong. 

With chariots and with steeds of burning fire ; 

rb, and Seraph, Thrones, Dominions, rower^, 
K 



212 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Bright in celestial armour, dazzling, rode. 

Ana, leading in the front, illustrious shone 

Michael and Gabriel, servants long approved 

In high commission, — girt that day with power. 

Which naught created, man or devil, might 

Resist. Nor waited, gazing, long ; but, quick 

Descending, silently and without song, 

As servants bent to do their master's work. 

To middle air they raised the human race. 

Above the path long travelled by the sun ; 

And as a shepherd from the sheep divides 

The goats ; or husbandman, with reaping hands. 

In harvest, separates the precious wheat, 

Selected from the tai^es ; so did they part 

Mankind, the good and bad, to right and left, 

To meet no more ; thcoe ne'er again to smile. 

Nor those to weep ; these never more to share 

Society of mercy with the saints. 

Nor, henceforth, those to suffer with the vile. 

Strange parting ! not for hours, nor days, nor mondis, 

Nor for ten thousand times ten thousand years ; 

But for a whole eternity ! — though fit. 

And pleasant to the righteous, yet to all 

Strange, and most strangely felt ! The sire, to right 

Retiring, saw the son — sprung from his loins. 

Beloved how dearly once ! but who forgot. 

Too soon, in sin's intoxicating cup. 

The father's warnings and the mother's tears — 

Fall to the left among the reprobate ; 

And sons, redeemed, beheld the fathers, whom 

They loved and honoured once, gathered among 

The wicked. Brothers, sisters, kinsmen, friends j 

Husband and wife, who ate at the same board. 

And under the same roof, united, dwelt. 

From youth to hoary age, bearing the chance 

And change of Time together, parted then 

For evermore. But none, whose friendship grew 

From virtue's pure and everlasting root, 

Took different roads ; these, knit in stricter bonds 

Of amity, embracing saw no more 



BOOK IX. 213 

Death, witli his sithe, stand by ; nor heard the word, 
Tl»e bitter word, which closed all earthly friendships. 
And finished every feast of love — Farewell. 
To all, strange parting ! to tlie wicked, sad 
And terrible ! New horror seized them, while 
They saw the saints withdrawing, and with tliem 
All hope of safety, all delay of wrath. 

Beneath a crown of rosy hght, — like that 
Which once, in Goshen, on the flocks, and herds. 
And dwelhngs, smiled, of Jacob, while the land 
Of Nile was dark ; or like tlie pillar bright 
Of sacred fire, that stood above the sons 
Of Israel, when they camped at midnight by 
The foot of Horeb, or the desert side 
Of Sinai ; — now, the righteous took tlieir place. 
All took their place, who ever wished to go 
To heaven, for heaven's own sake. Not one reniaiQe(? 
Among the accursed, that e'er desired vvitli all 
The heart to be redeemed, that ever sought 
Submissively to do the will of God, 
Howe'er it crossed his own ; or to escape 
Hell, for au^ht other than its penal fires. 
All took their place, rejoicing, and beheld 
In centre of the crown of golden beams 
That canopied them o'er, these gracious words, 
Blushing with tints of love : " Fear not, my saints.'* 

To other sigtit of horrible dismay, 
Jehovtdi's ministers the wicked drove. 
And left them bound immovable in chains 
Of Justice. O'er tlieir heads a bowless cloud 
Of indignation hung ; a cloud it was 
Of thick and utter darkness, rolling, like 
An ocean, tides of livid, pitchy flame ; 
With thunders charged, and lightnings ruinous. 
And red with forked vengeance, such as wounds 
The soul ; and full of angry shapes of wrath. 
And eddies whirling with tumultuous fire, 
And forms of terror ravin" to and fro. 



214 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And monsters, unimagined heretofore 

By guilty men in dreams before their death. 

From horrid to more horrid changing still. 

In hideous movement through that stormy gulf : 

And evermore the Thunders, murmuring, spoke 

From out the darkness, uttering loud these words. 

Which every guilty conscience echoed back : 

" Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not." 

Dread words ! that barred excuse, and threw the weight 

Of every man's perdition, on himself. 

Directly home. Dread words ! heard then, and heard 

For ever through the wastes of Erebus. 

" Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not !" 

These were ihe words which glowed upon the sword. 

Whose wrath burned fearfully behind the cursed, 

As they were driven away from God to Tophet. 

" Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not I" 

These are the words to which the harps of grief 

Are strung ; and, to the chorus of the damned, - 

The rocks of hell repeat them, evermore ; 

Loud echoed through the caverns of despair. 

And poured in thunder on the ear of Wo. 

Nor ruined men alone, beneath that cloud. 
Trembled. There, Satan and his legions stood, 
Satan, the first and eldest sinner, — bound 
For judgment. He, by other name, held once 
Conspicuous rank in heaven among the sons 
Of happiness, rejoicing, day and night. 
But pride, that was ashamed to bow to God, 
Most High, his bosom filled Avith hate, his face 
Made black with envy, and ju his soul begot 
Thoughts guilty of rebellion 'gainst the throne 
Of the Eternal Father and the Son, — 
From everlasting built on righteousness. 

Ask not how pride, in one created pure. 
Could grow ; or sin without example spring. 
Where holiness alone was sown : esteem't 
Elnough, that he, as every being made 



215 



By God, was made entirely holy, had 

The will of God before him set for law 

And regulation of his life, and power 

To do as bid ; but was, meantime, left free. 

To prove his worth, his gratitude, his love ; 

How proved besides 1 for how could service done, 

That might not else have been withheld, evince 

The will to serve, which, rather than the deed, 

God doth require, and virtue counts alone 1 

To stand or fall, to do or leave undone. 

Is reason's lofty privilege, denied 

To all below, by instinct bound to fate. 



f, Dy II 
alike. 



Unmeriting, alike, reward or blame. 

Thus free, the Devil chose to disobey 
The will of God, and was thrown out from heaven. 
And with him all his bad example stained : 
Yet not to utter punishment decreed. 
But left to fill the measure of his sin. 
In tempting and seducing man — too soon. 
Too easily seduced ! And, from the day 
He first set foot on earth, — of rancour full. 
And pride, and hate, and malice, and revenge, — 
He set himself, with most felonious aim 
And hellish perseverance, to root out 
All good, and in its place to plant all ill ; 
To rub and raze, from all created things, 
The fair and holy portraiture divine. 
And on them to eustamp his features grim ; 
To draw all creatures oft from loyalty 
To their Creator, and to make them bow 
The knee to him. Nor failed of great success. 
As populous hell, this day, can testify. 
He held, indeed, large empire in the world, 
Contending proudly with the King of heaven. 
To him temples were built, and sacrifice 
Of costly blood upon his altars flowed ; 
And — what best pleased him, for in show he seemed 
Then likest God — whole nations, bowing, fell 
Before him, worshipping, and from his lips 



216 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Entreated oracles, which he, by priests, — 
For many were his priests in every age, — 
Answeroi, though guessing but at f Uure things. 
And erriiig oft, yet '^till believed ; so well 
His ignorance, in ambiguous phrase, he veiled. 

Nor needs it wonder, that with man once fallen. 
His tempting should succeed. Large was his mind 
And understanding ; though impaired by sin. 
Still large ; and constant practice, day and night. 
In cunning, guile, and all hypocrisy. 
From age to age, gave him experience vast 
In sin's dark tactics, such as boyish man, 
Unarmed by strength divine, could ill withstand. 
And well he knew his weaker sidej and still, 
His lures, with baits that pleased the senses, busked; 
To his impatient passions offering terms 
Of present joy, and bribing reason's eye 
With earthly wealth, and honours near at hand. 
Nor failed to misadvise his future hope 
And faith, by false, unkerneled promises 
Of heavens of sensual gluttony and love. 
That suited best their grosser appetites. 
Into the sinner's heart, who lived secure, 
And feared him least, he entered at his will. 
But chief, he cliose his residence in courts 
And conclaves, stirring princes up to acts 
Of blood and tyranny ; and moving priests 
To barter truth, and swap the souls of men 
For lusty benefices, and address 
Of lofty sounding. Nor the saints elect. 
Who walked with God, in virtue's path sublime. 
Did he not sometimes venture to molest ; 
In dreams and moments of unguarded thought. 
Suggesting guilty doubts and fears, that God 
Would disappoint their hope ; and in their way 
Bestrewing pleasures, tongued so sweet, and so 
In holy garb arrayed, that many stooped. 
Believing them of heavenly sort, and fell ; 
And to their high professions, brought disgrace 



BOOK IX. 217 

And scandal ; to themselves, thereafter, long 

And bitter nights of sore repentance, vexed 

With shame, unwonted sorrow, and remorse. 

And more they should have fallen, and more have wept. 

Had not their guardian angels, who, by God 

Commissioned, stood beside them in the hour 

Of danger, whether craft, or fierce attack, 

To Satan's deepest skill opposing skill 

More deep, and to his strongest arm, an arm 

More strong, — upborne them in their hands, and filled 

Their souls with all discernment, quick, to pierce 

His stratagems and fairest shows of sin. 

Now, like a roaring Hon, up and down 
The world, destroying, though unseen, he raged ; 
And now, retiring back to Tartarus, 
Far back, beneath the thick of guiltiest dark, 
Where night ne'er heard of day, in council grim. 
He sat with ministers whose thoughts were damned, 
And there such plans devised, as, had not God 
Checked and restrained, had added earth entire 
To hell, and uninhabited left heaven, 
Jehovah unadored. Nor unsevere. 
Even then, his punishment deserved. The Worm 
That never dies, coiled in his bosom, gnawed 
Perpetually ; sin after sin brought pang 
Succeeding pang ; and, now and then, tlie bolts 
Of Zion's King, vindictive, smote his soul 
With fiery wo to blast his proud designs ; 
And gave him earnest of the wrath to come. 
And chief, when, on the cross, Messiah said, 
" 'Tis finished." did the edge of vengeance smite 
Him through, and all his gloomy legions touch 
With new despair. But yet, to be the first 
In mischief, to have armies at his call, 
To hold dispute with God, in days of Time, 
His pride and malice fed, and bore him up 
Above the worst of ruin. Still, to plan 
And act great deeds, tliough wicked, brought at least 
The recompense wliich nature hath attached 



213 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

To all activity, and aim pursued 

With perseverance, good, or bad ; for as. 

By nature's laws, immutable and just. 

Enjoyment stops where indolence begins ; 

And purposeless, to-morrow borrowing sloth> 

Itself, heaps on its shoulders loads of wo. 

Too heavy to be Iwrne ; so industry — 

To meditate, to plan, resolve, perform, 

Which in itself is good — as surely brings 

Reward of good, no matter what be done : 

And such reward the Devil had, as long 

As the decrees eternal gave him space 

To work. But now, all action ceased ; his hope 

Of doing evil perished quite ; his pride. 

His courage, failed him; and beneath that cloud. 

Which hung its central terrors o'er his head, 

Vv^ith all his angels, he, for sentence, stood. 

And rolled his eyes around, that uttered guilt 

And wo, in horrible perfection joined. 

As he had been the chief and leader, long, 

Of the apostate crew that warred with God 

And holiness ; so now, among the bad. 

Lowest, and most forlorn, and trembling most. 

With all iniquity deformed and foul, 

"With all perdition ruinous and dark. 

He stood, — example awful of the wrath 

Of God ! sad mark, to which all sin nmst fall !— 

And made, on every side, so black a hell. 

That spirits, used to night and misery. 

To distance drew, and looked another way ; 

And from their golden cloud, far oft", the saints 

Saw round him darkness grow more dark, and heaid 

Tiie impatient thunderbolts, with deadliest crash 

And frequentest, break o'ei his head, — the sign 

That Satan, there, the vilest sinner, stood. 

Ah me ! what eyes were there beneath that cloud ! 
Eyes of despair, final and certain ! eyes 
That looked, and looked, and saw, where'er they looked, 
Interminable darkness ! utter wo ' 



21D 



'Twas pitiful to see the early flower 
Nipped by the unfeeling frost, just when it rose, 
Lovely in youth, and put its beauties on. 
'Twas pitiful to see the hopes of all 
The year, the yellow harvest, made a heap, 
By rains of judgment ; or by torrents swept. 
With flocks and cattle, down the raging flood ; 
Or scattered by the winnowing winds, that bore. 
Upon their angry wings, the wrath of heaven. 
Sad was the field, where, yesterday, was heard 
The roar of war ; and sad the sight of maid. 
Of mother, widow, sister, daughter, wife. 
Stooping and weeping over senseless, cold. 
Defaced, and mangled lumps of breathless earth, 
Which had been husbands, fathers, brothers, sons. 
And lovers, when that morning's sun arose. 
'Twas sad to see the wonted seat of friend 
Removed by death ; and sad to visit scenes. 
When old, v»here, in the smiling morn of life. 
Lived many, who both knew and lovod us much. 
And they all gone, dead, or dispersed abroad ] 
And stranger faces seen among their hills. 
'Twas sad to see the Uttle orphan babe 
Weeping and sobbing on its mother's grave. 
'Twas pitiful to see an old, forlorn. 
Decrepit, withered wretch, unhoused, unclad. 
Starving to death with poverty and cold. 
'Twas pitiful to see a blooming bride. 
That promise gave of many a happy year. 
Touched by decay, turn pale, and waste, and die, 
'Twas pitiful to hear the murderous thrust 
Of ruffian's blade that sought the life entire. 
'Twas sad to hear the blood come gurgling forth 
From out the throat of the wild suicide. 
Sad was the sight of widowed, childless age 
Weeping. — I saw it once. Wrinkled with time. 
And hoary with the dust of years, an old 
And worthy man came to his humble roof. 
Tottering and slow, and on the threshold stood. 
tio foot, no voice, was heard within. None came 



220 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

To meet him, where he oft had met a wife. 

And sons, and daughters, glad at his return ; 

None came to meet him ; for that day had seen 

The old man lay, within the narrow house, 

The last of all his family ; and now 

He stood in solitude, in solitude 

Wide as the world ; for all, that made to him 

Society, had fled beyond its bounds. 

Wherever strayed his aimless eye, there lay 

The wreck of some fond hope, that touched his soul 

With bitter thoughts, and told him all was passed. 

His lonely cot was silent, and he looked 

As if he could not enter. On his staff. 

Bending, he leaned; and from his weary eye, 

Distressing sight ! a single tear-drop wept. 

None followed, for the fount of tears was dry. 

Alone and last, it fell from wrinkle down 

To wrinkle, till it lost itself, drunk by 

The withered cheek, on which again no smile 

Should come, or drop of tenderness be seen. 

This sight was very pitiful ; but one 

Was sadder still, the saddest seen in Time : 

A man, to-day, the glory of his kind, 

In reason clear, in understanding large. 

In judgment sound, in fancy quick, in hope 

Abundant, and in promise, hke a field 

Well cultured, and refreshed with dews from God ; 

To-morrow, chained, and raving mad, and whipped 

By servile hands ; sitting on dismal straw. 

And gnashing with his teeth agaiisst the chain. 

The iron chain, that bound him hand and foot j 

And trying whiles to send his glaring eye 

Beyond the wide circumference of his wo ; 

Or, humbling more, more miserable still. 

Giving an idiot laugh that served to show 

The blasted scenery of his horrid face ; 

Calling the straw his sceptre, and the stone. 

On which he, pinioned, sat, his royal throne. 

Poor, poor, poor man ! fallen far below the brute ! 

His reason strove in vain to find her way. 



BOOK IX. 221 

Lost in the stormy desert of his brain ; 

And, being active still, she wrought all strange. 

Fantastic, execrable, monstrous things. 

All these were sad, and thousands more, that sleep 
Forgotten beneath the funeral pall of Time ; 
And bards, as well became, bewailed them much. 
With doleful instruments of weeping song. 
But what were these 1 What might be worse had in't, 
However small, some grains of happiness ; 
And man ne'er drank a cup of earthly sort. 
That might not held another drop of gall ; 
Or, in his deepest sorrow, laid his head 
Upon a pillow, set so close with thorns. 
That might not held another prickle still. 
Accordingly, the saddest human look 
Had hope in't ; faint, indeed, but still 'twas hope. 
But why excuse the misery of earth 1 
Say it was dismal, cold, and dark, and deep, 
Beyond the utterance of strongest words ; 
But say that none remembered it, who saw 
The eye of beings damned for evermore. 
Rolling, and rolling, rolling still in vain. 
To find some ray, to see beyond the gulf 
Of an unavenued, fierce, fiery, hot, 
Interminable, dark Futurity ! 
And rolling still, and roUing still in vain i 

Thus stood the reprobate beneath the shade 
Of terror, and beneath the crown of love. 
The good ; and there was silence in the vault 
Of heaven ; and as they stood and listened, they heard. 
Afar to left, among the utter dark. 
Hell rolling o'er his waves of burning fire, 
And thundering through his caverns, empty then. 
As if he preparation made, to act 
The final vengeance of the fiery Lamb. 
And there was heard, coming from out the Pit, 
The hollow wailing of Eternal Deatli, 
And horrid cry of the Undying Worm 



222 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The wicked paler turned, and scarce the good 
Their colour kept ; but were not long dismayed. 
That moment, in the heavens, how wondrous fair 
The angel of Mercy stood, and, on the bad 
Turning his back, over the ransomed threw 
His bow, bedropped with imagery of love, 
And promises on which their faith reclined. 
Througiiout, deep, breathless silence reigned again ; 
And on the circuit of the upper spheres, 
A glorious seraph stood, and cried aloud, 
That every ear of man and devil heard, 
" Him that is filthy, let be filthy still ; 
Him that is holy, let be holy still." 
And, suddenly, another squadron bright. 
Of high arch-angc] glory, stooping, brought 
A marvellous bow, — one base upon the Cross, 
The other on the shoulder of the Bear, 
They placed, — from south to north, spanning the 

heavens. 
And on each hand dividing good and bad, — 
Who read, on either bide, these burning words, 
Which ran along the arch in living fire, 
And wanted not to be believed in full : 
*' As ye have sown, so shall ye reap this day." 



COURSE OP TIME. 



BOOK X. 



ANALYSIS OF BOOK X. 

In the beginning tlie author jnvoJtes the presence and aid 
of the Holy Spirit, while he interprets the notes of the 
Ancient Bard describing the Uay of Judgment. 

The Bard proceeds. Soon millions infinite of holy spirits 
are heard and seen gathering before the Eternal Throne- 
from heaven and from countless worlds around. Silence 
ensues, and from a radiant cloud the voice of God comes 
forth, announces to the assembled millions the object of 
calling them to his presence, and states that tha destiny 
of Man is concluded, the Day of Retribution come, and 
the generations of Earth collected at the place of Judg- 
ment. The voice then addresses the Son Messiah, as- 
signing to him the covenanted office of Judge. The Son, 
taking the Book of God's Remembrance, the Crowns of 
life, and the Sword of justice, and attended by the sum- 
moned millions, moves forth in glory, becomes visible 
to the assembled sons of men, and ascends the Throne 
between the good and bad. — An angel unfolds the Book. 
In awful silence, the Judge waits, while every conscience 
attests the record. He rises to pronounce the sentence. 
No creature breathes ; the spheres and stars, with every 
particle of matter, stand still. — Those trembling on the 
left hear a dread decree of burning words 5 the Sword of 
justice gleams and plunges in their midst ; they sink in 
utter darkness, returning one groan of boundless wo, as 
Hell closes round, and the Undying Worm and Second 
Death begin their (.ndless repast. — The last Fire then 
consumes the Eartli. — Finally, the righteous hear a joy- 
ous welcome, receive their crowns, and ascend with the 
Judge, singing with the angels, 'Glory to God and to the 
Lamb.' 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK X. 



God of my fathers ! holy, just, and good ! 

My God ! "my Father ! my unfailing Hope ! 

Jehovah ! let the incense of my praise, 

Accepted, burn before thy mercy seat. 

And in tliy presence burn, both day and night. 

Maker ! Preserver ! my Redeemer ! God ! 

Whom have I in the heavens but Thee alone 1 

On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whom love 1 

For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld 

By thy omnipotence ; and from thy grace, 

Unbought, unmerited, ihougli not unsought — 

The wells of thy salvation, hast refreshed 

My spirit, watering it, at morn and even ; 

And, by thy Spirit, which thou freely givest 

To whom tliou wilt, hast led my venturous soiig. 

Over the vale and mountain tract, the light 

And shade of man ; into the burning deep 

Descending now, and now circling the mount. 

Where highest sits Divinity enthroned ; 

Rolling along die tide of fluent thought, 

The tide of moral, natural, divine ; 

Gazing on past and present, and again, 

On ra^-id pinion borne, outsti-ipping Time, 



224 THE COURSE OP TIIWE. 

In long excursion, wandering through the groves 

Unfading, and the endless avenues. 

That shade the landscape of Eternity ; 

And talking there with holy angels met, 

And future men, in glorious vision seen ? 

Nor unrewarded have I waiched at night. 

And heard the drowsy sound of neighbouring sleepv 

New thought, new imagery, new scenes of bliss 

And glory, unrehearsed by mortal tongue. 

Which, unrevealed, I, trembling, turned and lep:. 

Bursting at once upon my ravished eye, — 

With joy unspeakable have filled my soul. 

And made my cup run over with delight : 

Though in my face the blasts of adverse wmds, 

While boldly circumnavigating man. 

Winds seeming adverse, though perhaps not so. 

Have beat severely ; disregarded beat. 

When I, behind me, heard the voice of God, 

And his propitious Spirit say. Fear not ! 

God of my fathers ! ever present God ! 
This offering, more, inspire, sustain, accept J 
Highest, if numbers answer to the theme ; 
Best answering, if thy Spirit dictate most. 
Jehovah ! breathe upon my soul ; my heart 
Enlarge ; my faith increase ; increase my hope ; 
My thoughts exalt ; my fancy santify. 
And all my passions, tliat I near thy throne 
May venture, unreproved ; and sing the day. 
Which none unholy ought to name, the Day 
Of Judgment ! greatest day, passed or to como J 
Day ! which, — deny me what thou wilt, deny 
Me home, or friend, or honourable name, — 
Thy mercy grant, I, tlioroughly prepared. 
With comely garment of redeeming love. 
May meet, and have my Judge for Advocate. 

Come, Gracious Influence, Breath of the Lord ! 
And touch me trembling, as thou touched the man» 
Greatly beloved, when he in vision saw. 



BOOK X. 225 

By Ulai's stream, tlie Ancient sit ; and talked 

Witli Gabriel, to his prayer swiftly sent, 

At evening sacrifice. Hold my right hand, 

Almighty ! hear me, for I ask through Him, 

Whom thou hast heard, whom thou wilt always hear^ 

Thy Son, our interceding Great High Priest ! 

Reveal the fiiture, let the years to come 

Pass by, and ojien my ear to hear tlie harp 

The prophet harp, whose wisdom I repeat. 

Interpreting the voice of distant song ; — ■ 

Which thus again resumes the lofty verse. 

Loftiest, if I interpret faithfully 

The holy numbers which my spirit hears. 

Thus came the day, the Harp again began. 
The day that many thought should never come. 
That all the wicked wished should never come. 
That all the righteous had expected long ; 
Day greatly feared, and yet too little feared, 
By him who feared it most ; day laughed at much 
By the profane, the trembling day of all 
Who laughed; day when all shadows passed, all 

dreams ; 
When substance, when reality commenced ; 
Last day of lying, final day of all 
Deceit, all knavery, all quackish phrase ; 
Ender of all disputing, of all mirth 
Ungodly, of all loud and boasting speech ; 
Judge of all judgments. Judge of every judge. 
Adjuster of all causes, rights and wrongs ; 
Day oft appealed to, and appealed to oft 
By those who saw its dawn witli saddest heart ; 
Day most magnificent in Fancy's range. 
Whence she returned, confounded, trembling, pale. 
With overmuch of glory faint and blind ; 
Day most important held, prepared for most. 
By every rational, wise, and holy man ; 
Day of eternal gain, for worldly loss ; 
Day of eternal loss, for Avorldly gain ; 
Great day of terror, vengeance, wo, despair; 
S 



226 THB COURSE OF TIME. 

Revealer of all secrets, thoughts, desires ; 

Rein-trying, heart-investigating day, 

That stood between Eternity and Time, 

Reviewed all past, determined all to come. 

And bound all destinies for evermore ; 

Believing day of unbelief; great day, 

That set in proper liglit the affairs of earth, 

And justified the Government Divine ; 

Great day '. — what can we more 1 what should we 

more 1 — 
Great triumph day of God's incarnate Son ! 
Great day of glory to the Almighty God ! 
Day ! whence tlie everlasting years begin 
Their date, new era in eternity, 
And oft referred to in the song of heaven ! 

Thus stood the apostate, thus the ransomed stood. 
Those held by justice fast, and these by love, 
Reading the fiery scutcheonry, that blazed 
On high, upon tlie great celestial bow : 
•' As ye have sown, so shall ye X'eap this day.'* 
AH read, all understood, and all believed. 
Convinced of judgment, righteousness, and sin. 

Meantime the universe throughout was still. 
The cope, above and round about, was calm ; 
And motionless, beneath them, lay the Earth, 
Silent and sad, as one that sentence waits, 
For flagrant crime ; — when suddenly was heard, 
Behind the azure vaulting of the sky. 
Above, and far remote from reach of sight, 
The sound of trumpets, and the sound of crowds. 
And prancing steeds, and rapid chariot wheels. 
That from four quarters rolled, and seemed in haste. 
Assembling at some place of rendezvous ; 
And so they seemed to roll, with furious speed. 
As if none meant to be behind the first. 
Nor seemed alone : that day, the golden trump. 
Whose voice, from centre to circumference 
Of all created things, ie heard distioct, 



BOOK X. 227 

God had bid Michael sound, to summon all 

The hosts of bliss to presence of their King ; 

And, all the morning, millions infinite, 

That millions governed each. Dominions, Powers, 

Thrones, Principalities, with all tlieir hosts, 

Had been arriving, near the capital, 

And royal city. New Jerusalem, 

From heaven's remotest bounds. Nor vet from heaven 

Alone came they, that day. The worlds around, 

Or neighbouring nearest on the verge of night. 

Emptied, sent forth their whole inhabitants 

All tribes of being came, of every name. 

From every coast, filling Jehovah's courts. 

From morn till mid-day, in the squadrons poured 

Immense, along the bright celestial roads. 

Swiftly they rode, for love unspeakable, 

To God, and to Messiah, Prince of Peace, 

Drew them, and made obedience haste to be 

Approved. And now, before the Eternal Throne, — 

Brighter, that day, than when the Son prepared 

To overthrow the seraphim rebelled, — 

And circling round the mount of Deity, 

Upon the sea of glass, all round about, 

And down the borders of tlie stream of life. 

And over all the plains of Paradise, 

For many a league of heavenly measurement, — 

Assembled, stood the immortal multitudes, 

Millions, above all number infinite, 

The nations of the blessed. Distinguished each. 

By chief of goodly stature blazing far ; 

By various garb, and flag of various hue 

Streaming through heaven from standard lifted high — 

The arms and imagery of thousand worlds. 

Distinguished each, but all arrayed complete. 

In armour bright, of helmet, shield, and sword j 

And mounted all in chariots of fire. 

A military throng, blent, not confused ; 

As soldiers on some day of great review, 

Burning in splciulour of refulgent gold. 

And ornament, on purpose, long divised 



228 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

For this expected day. Distinguished each. 
But all accoutred as became tlieir Lord, 
And high occasion ; all in holiness, 
The livery of the soldiery of God, 
Vested ; and shining all with perfect bliss. 
The wages that his faithful servants win. 

Thus stood they numberless around the mount 
Of presence ; and, adoring, waited, hushed 
In deepest silence, for the voice of God 
That moment, all the Sacred Hill on high 
Burned, terrible with glory, and, behind 
The uncreated lustre, hid the Lamb, 
Invisible ; when, from the radiant cloud. 
This voice, addi'essing all the hosts of heaven 
Proceeded, not in words as we converse. 
Each with his fellow, but in language such 
As God doth use, imparting, without phrase 
Successive, whatj in speech of creatures, seems 
Long narrative, though long, yet losing much 
In feeble symbols of the thought Divine. 

My servants long approved, my faithful sons, 
Angels of glory, Thi'ones, Dominions, Powers, 
Well pleased, this morning, I have seen the speed 
Of your obedience, gathering round my throne. 
In order due, and well-becoming garb ; 
Illustrious, as I see, beyond your wont. 
As was my wish, to glorify this day : 
And now, what your assembUng means, attend. 

This day concludes the destiny of man. 
The hour, appointed from eternity. 
To judge the earth, iij righteousness, is come ; 
To end the war of Sin, that long has fought. 
Permitted, against the sword of Holiness ; 
To give to men and devils, as their works. 
Recorded in my all-remembering book, 
I find ; good to the good, and great reward 
Of everlasting honour, joy, and peace, 



BOOK X. 229 

Before my presence here for evermore ; 
And to the evil, as their sins provoke, 
Eternal recompense of shame and wo, 
Cast out beyond the bounds of light and love. 

Long have I stood, as ye, my sons, well know. 
Between the cherubim, and stretched my arms 
Of mercy out, inviting all to come 
To me, and live ; my bowels long have moved 
With great compassion ; and my justice passed 
Transgression by, and not imputed sin. 
Long here, upon my everlasting throne, 
I have beheld my love and mercy scorned, 
Have seen my laws despised, my name blasphemed. 
My providence accused, my gracious plans 
Opposed ; and long, too long, have I beheld 
The wicked triumph, and my saints reproached 
Maliciously, while on my altars lie. 
Unanswered still, their praj^ers and their tears. 
That seek my coining, wearied with delay ; 
And long. Disorder in my moral reign 
Has walked rebelliously, disturbed the peace 
Of my eternal government, and wrought 
Confusion, spreading far and wide, among 
My works inferior, which groan to be 
Released. Nor long shall groan. The hour of grace 
The final hour of grace, is fully passed ; 
The time accepted for repentance, faith. 
And pardon, is irrevocably passed ; 
And Justice, unaccompanied, as wont. 
With Mercy, now goes forth, to give to all 
According to their deeds. Justice alone, — 
For why should Mercy any more be joined 1 
What hath not mercy, mixed with judgment done. 
That mercy, mixed with judgment and reproof, 
Could do 1 Did I not revelation make. 
Plainly and clearly, of my will entire 1 
Before them set my holy law, and gave 
Them knowledge, wisdom, prowess to obey. 
And win, by self-wrought worlis, eternal life 1 



230 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Rebelled, did I not send them terms of peace. 

Which, not my justice, but my mercy asked T— 

Terms, costly to my \vell-beloved Son ; 

To them, gratuitous, exacting faith 

A.lone for pardon, works evincing faith 1 

Have I not early risen, and sent my seers. 

Prophets, apostles, teachers, ministers, 

With signs and wonders, working in my name 1 

Have I not still, from age to age, raised up 

As I saw needful, great, religious men. 

Gifted by me with large capacity. 

And by my arm omnipotent upheld. 

To pour the numbers of my mercy forth. 

And roll my judgments on the ear of man 1 

And lastly, when the pi'omised hour was come, — 

What more could most abundant mercy do *?- 

Did I not send Immanuel forth, my Son, 

Only begotten, to purchase, by his blood. 

As many as believed upon his name 1 

Did he not die to give repentance, such 

As I accept, and pardon of all sins 1 

Has he not taught, beseeched, and shed abroad 

The Spirit unconfined, and given at times 

Example fierce of wrath and judgment, poured 

Vindictively on nations guilty long 1 

What means of reformation, that my Son 

Has left behind, untried '? what plainer words. 

What arguments more strong, as yet remain 1 

Did he not tell them, with his lips of ti-uth. 

The righteous should be saved, the wicked damned 1 

And has he not, awake both day and night. 

Here inteixeded with prevailing voice. 

At my right haixl, pleading his precious blood 

Which magnified my holy law, and bought. 

For all who wished, perpetual righteousness 1 

And have not you, my faithful servants, all 

Been frequent forth, obedient to my will. 

With messages of mercy and of love. 

Administering my gifts to sinful man 1 

And have not all ray mercy, all my love. 



2S1 



Been sealed and stamped with signature of heaven 1 

By proof of wonder s-sr^iracles, and signs 

Attested, and attested more by truth 

Divine, inherent in the tidings sent 1 

This day declares the consequence of all. 

Some have believed, are sanctified, and saved. 

Prepared for dwelling in this holy place. 

In these their mansions, built before my face ; 

And now, beneath a crown of golden light. 

Beyond our wall, at place of judgment, they, 

Expecting, wait the promised, due reward. 

The others stand with Satan bound in chains. 

The others, who refused to be redeemed : 

They stand, unsanctified, unpardoned, sad. 

Waiting the sentence tliat shall fix their wo. 

The otliers, who refused to be redeemed ; 

For all had grace sufficient to believe. 

All who my gospel heard ; and none, who heard 

It not, shall by its law, this day, be Uied. 

Necessity of sinning, my decrees 

Imposed on none ; but rather, all inclined 

To holiness ; and grace was bountiftd. 

Abundant, overflowing witli my word ; 

My word of life and peace, which to all men. 

Who shall or stand or fall, by law revealed, 

Was offered freely, as 'twas freely sent. 

Without all money, and without all price. 

Thus they have all, by willing act, despised 

Me, and my Son, and sanctifying Spirit. 

But now, no longer shall they mock or scorn. 

The day of grace and mercy is complete. 

And Godhead from tlieir misery absolved. 

So saying. He, the Father infinite. 
Turning, addressed Messiah, where he sat. 
Exalted gloriously, at his right hand. 
This day belongs to justice and to thee, 
Eternul Son, thy right for service done. 
Abundantly fulfilling all my will ; 
By promise tlvine, from all eternity. 



232 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Made in the ancient Covenant of Grace ; 

And thine, as most befitting, &'-^?» in thee 

Divine and human meet, impartial Judge, 

Consulting thus the interest of both. 

Go tlien, my Son, divine similitude. 

Image express of Deity unseen. 

The book of my remembrance take ; and take 

The golden crowns of life, due to the saints ; 

And take the seven last thunders ruinous ; 

Thy armour take ; gird on thy sword, thy sword 

Of justice ultimate, reserved, till now, 

Unsheathed, in the eternal armoury ; 

And mount the living chariot of God. 

Thou goest not now, as once, to Calvary, 

To be insulted, buffeted, and slain ; 

Thou goest not now, with battle and the voice 

Of war, as once against the rebel hosts. 

Thou goest a Judge, and findst the giiilty bound ; 

Thou goest to prove, condemn, acquit, reward. 

Not unaccompanied ; all these, my saints. 

Go with thee, glorious retinue, to sing 

Thy triumph, and participate thy joy ; 

And I, the Omnipresent, with thee go; 

And with thee all the glory of my throne. 

Thus said the Father ; and the Son beloved. 
Omnipotent, Omniscient, Fellow God, 
Arose, resplendent with Divinity ; 
And He the book of God's remembrance took ; 
And took the seven last thunders ruinous ; 
And took the crowns of life, due to the saints ; 
His armour took ; girt on his sword, his sword 
Of justice ultimate, reserved, till now, 
Unsheathed, in the eternal armoury ; 
And up the living chariot of God 
Ascended, signifying all complete. 

And now the Trump, of wondrous melody. 
By man or angel never heard before, 
Sounded with thunder, and the march began. 



BOOK X. 233 

Not swift, as cavalcade, on battle bent, 

But, as became procession of a judge. 

Solemn, magaificent, majestic, slow ; 

Moving sublime with glory infinite. 

And numbers infinite, and awful song, 

They passed the gate of heaven, which, many a league. 

Opened either way, to let the glory forth 

Of this great march. And now, tlie sons of men 

Beheld their coming, which, before, they heard ; 

Beheld the glorious countenance of God ! 

All light was swallowed up, all objects seen 

Faded ; and the Incarnate, visible 

Alone, held every eye upon him fixed ; 

The wicked saw his majesty severe ; 

And those who pierced Him saw his face with clouds 

Of glory circled round, essential bright ! 

And to the rocks and mountains called in vain. 

To hide them from the fierceness of his wrath : 

Almighty power their flight restrained, and held 

Them bound immovable before the bar. 

The righteous, undismayed and bold, — best proof. 
This day, of fortitude sincere, — sustained 
By inward faith, with acclamations loud. 
Received the coming of the Son of Man ; 
And, drawn by love, inclined to his approach. 
Moving to meet the brightness of his face. 

Meantime, 'tween good and bad, the Judge his 
wheels 
Stayed, and, ascending, sat upon the great 
White Throne, that morning founded there by power 
Omnipotent, and built on righteousness 
And truth. Behind, before, on every side. 
In native and reflected blaze of bright. 
Celestial equipage, the myriads stood. 
That with his marching came ; rank above rank. 
Rank above rank, with sliield and flaming sword. 

'Twas silence all ! and quick, on right and left, 
A mighty angel spread the book of God's 



234 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Remembrance ; and, with conscience now sincere^ 
All men compared the record, written there 
By finger of Omniscience ; and received 
Their sentence, in themselves, of joy or wo ; 
Condemned or justified, while yet the Judge 
Waited, as if to let them prove themselves. 
The righteous, in the book of life displayed. 
Rejoicing, read their names ; rejoicing, read 
Their faith for righteouness received, and deeds 
Of holiness, as proof of faith complete. 
The wicked, in the book of endless death, 
Spread out to left, bewailing, read their names | 
And read beneath them. Unbelief, and fi'uit 
Of unbelief, vile, unrepented deeds. 
Now unrepentable for evermore ; 
And gave approval of the wo affixed. 

This done, the Omnipotent, Omniscient Judge, 
Rose infinite, the sentence to pronounce. 
The sentence of eternal wo or bliss ! 
All glory heretofore seen or conceived. 
All majesty, annihilated, dropped, 
That moment, from remembrance, and was lost ; 
And silence, deepest hitherto esteemed. 
Seemed noisy to the stillness of this hour. 
Comparisons I seek not, nor should find. 
If sought. That silence, which all being held. 
When God's Almighty Son, from off the walls 
Of heaven the rebel angels threw, accursed. 
So still, that all creation heard their fall 
Distinctly, in the lake of burning fire, — 
Was now forgotten, and every silence else 
All being rational, created then, 
Around the judgment seat, intensely listened. 
No creature breathed. Man, angel, devil, stood 
And listened ; the spheres stood still, and every star 
Stood still, and listened ; and every particle. 
Remotest in the womb of matter, stood, 
Bending to hear, devotional and still. 
And tixus upoa tlie wicked, first, tlie Judge 



BOOK X. 235 

Pronounced the sentence, written before of old : 
*' Depart from me, ye cursed, into the fire. 
Prepared eternal in the gulf of Hell, 
Where ye shall weep and wail for evermore, 
Reaping the harvest which your sins have sown.** 

So saying, God grew dark with utter wrath ; 
And, drawing now the sword, undrawn before. 
Which tlirough the range of infinite, all around, 
A gleam of fiery indignation threw, 
He lifted up his hand omnipotent. 
And down among the damned tlie burning edge 
Plunged ; and from forth his arrowy quiver sent. 
Emptied, the seven last thunders ruinous, 
Which, entering, withered all their souls with fire. 
Then first was vengeance, first was ruin seen ! 
Red, unrestrained, vindictive, final, fierce ! 
They, howhng, fled to west among the dark ; 
But fled not tliese the terrors of the Lord. 
Pursued, and driven beyond the Gulf, which frowns 
Impassable, between tlie good and bad. 
And downward far remote to left, oppressed 
And scorched with tlie avenging fires, begun 
Burning within them, — they upon the verge 
Of Erebus, a moment, pausing stood. 
And saw, below, the unfatliomable lake. 
Tossing with tides of dark, tempestuous wrath ; 
And would have looked behind ; but gi-eater wrath, 
Behmd, forbade, which now no respite gave 
To final misery. God, in the grasp 
Of his Almighty strength, took them upraised. 
And threw them down, into the yawning pit 
Of bottomless perdition, ruined, damned. 
Fast bound in chains of darkness evermore ; 
And Second Death, and the Undying Worm, 
Opening their horrid jaws, witli hideous yell. 
Falling, received their everlasting prey. 
A groan returned, as down they sunk, and sunk. 
And ever sunk, among the utter dark ! 
A groan returned ! the righteous heaid the groan. 



236 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The groan of all the reprobate, when first 

They felt damnation sure ! and heard Hell close ! 

And heard Jehovah, and his love retire ! 

A groan returned ! the righteous heard the groan. 

As if all misery, all sorrow, grief, 

All pain, all anguish, all despair, M'hich all 

Have suffered, or shall feel, from first to last 

Eternity, had gathered to one pang. 

And issued in one groan of boundless wo ! 

And now the wall of hell, the outer wall, 
First gateless then, closed round them ; that which thou 
Hast seen, of fiery adamant, emblazed 
With hideous imagery, above all hope. 
Above all flight of fancy, burning high. 
And guarded evermore, by Justice, turned 
To Wrath, that hears, unmoved, the endless groan 
Of those wasting within; and sees, unmoved. 
The endless tear of vain repentance fall. 

Nor ask if these shall ever be redeemed. 
They never shall ! Not God, but their own sin. 
Condemns them. What could be done, as thou hast 

heard, 
Has been already done ; all has been tried. 
That wisdom infinite, and boundless grace, 
Working together, could devise ; and all 
Has failed. Why now succeed 1 Though God should 

stoop, 
Inviting still, and send his Only Son 
To oft'er grace in hell, the pride, that first 
Refusetl, would still refuse ; the unbelief. 
Still unbelieving, would deride and mock ; 
Nay more, refuse, deride, and mock ; for sin. 
Increasing still, and growing, day and night. 
Into the essence of tlie soul, become 
All sin, makes what in time seemed probable, — 
Seemed probable, since God invited then, — 
For ever now impossible. Thus they. 
According to the eternal laws which bind 



237 



An creatures, bind the Uncreated One, 
Though we name not the sentence of die Judge, — 
Must daily grow in sin and punishment. 
Made by themselves tlieir necessary lot. 
Unchangeable to all eternity. 

What lot ! what choice ! I sing not, cannot sing. 
Here, highest seraphs tremble on the lyre. 
And make a sudden pause ! — but thou hast seen. 
And here, the bard, a moment, held his hand. 
As one who saw more of that horrid wo 
Than words could utter ; and again resumed* 

Nor yet had vengeance done. The guilty Earth, 
Inanimate, debased, and stained by sin. 
Seat of rebellion, of corruption, long. 
And tainted with mortality throughout, — 
God sentenced next ; and sent the final fires 
Of ruin forth, to burn and to destroy. 
The saints its burning saw, and thou mayst see. 
Look yonder, round the lofty golden walls 
And galleries of New Jerusalem, 
Among the imageiy of wonders passed ; 
Look near the southern gate ; look, and behold — 
On spacious canvass, touched with living hues — 
The Conflagration of the ancient earth. 
The handiwork of high archangel, drawn 
From memory of what he saw, that day. 

' See ! how the mountains, how the vallejs biurn ; 

I The Andes burn, the Alps, the Apennines, 
Taurus and Atlas ; all the islands burn ; 

I The Ocean burns, and rolls his waves of flame. 

I See how the hghtnings, barbed, red with wrath, 

I Sent from the quiver of Omnipotence, 
Cross and recross the fiery gloom, and bum 

I Into the centre ! — burn without, within, 

I And help the native fires, which God awoke. 
And kindled with the fury of liis wrath. 
As inly troubled, now she seems to shake ; 
Tiie flames, dividing, now a moment, fall ; 



238 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And now, in one conglomerated mass, 
Rising, they glow on high, prodigious blaze ! 
Then fall and sink again, as if, within. 
The fuel, burned to ashes, was consumed. 
So burned the Earth upon that dreadful day, 
Yet not to full annihilation burned. 
The essential particles of dust i-emained. 
Purged by the final, sanctifying fires. 
From all corruption ; from all stain of sin. 
Done there by man or devil, purified. 
The essential particles remained, of which 
God built the world again, renewed, improved. 
With fertile vale, and wood of fertile bough ; 
And streams of milk and honey, flowing song ; 
And mountains cinctured with perpetual green ; 
In clime and season fruitful, as at first, 
When Adam woke, unfallen, in Paradise. 
And God, from out the fount of native fight, 
A handful took of beams, and clad the sun 
Again in glory ; and sent forih the moon 
To borrow thence her wonted rays, and lead 
Her stars, the virgin daughters of the sky. 
And God revived the winds, revived the tides ; 
And touching her from his Almighty hand. 
With force centrifugal, she onward ran. 
Coursing her wonted path, to stop no more. 
Delightful scene of new inhabitants ! 
As thou, this morn, in passing hither, sawst. 

Thus done, the glorious Judge, turning to right. 
With countenance of love unspeakable. 
Beheld the righteous, and approved them thus : 
" Ye blessed of my Father, come, ye just. 
Enter the joy eternal of your Lord ; 
Receive your crowns, ascend, and sit with me. 
At God's right hand, in glory evermore !" 

Thus said the Omnipotent, Incarnate God j 
And waited not tlie homage of the crowns. 
Already thrown before him j nor the loud 



BOOK X. 239 

Amen of universal, holy praise ; 

But turned tlie living chariot of fire, 

And swifter now, — as joyful to declare 

This day's proceedings in his Father's court. 

And to present the number of his sons 

Before the Throne, — ascended up to heaven. 

And all his saints, and all his angel bands. 

As, glorious, they on high ascended, sung 

Glory to God and to the Lamb ! — they sung 

Messiah, fairer than the sons of men, 

And altogether lovely. Grace is poured 

Into thy lips, above all measure poured ; 

And therefore God hatli blessed thee evermore 

Gird, gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O diou 

Most Mighty '. with thy gloiy ride ; with all 

Thy majesty, ride prosperously, because 

Of meekness, trath, and righteousness. Thy throne, 

O God, for ever and for ever stands ; 

The sceptre of thy kingdom still is right; 

Therefore hath God, thy God, anointed thee 

With oil of gladness and perfumes of myrrh, 

I Out of die ivory palaces, above 

I Thy fellows, crowned tlie Prince of endless peace ! 

j Thus sung they God, their Saviour : and thernselveg 

I Prepared complete to enter now, wth Christ, 
' Their hving Head, into the Holy Place. 

Behold ! the daughter of the King, tlie bride, 
All glorious within, the bride adorned. 
Comely in broidery of gold ! behold, 
She comes, apparelled royally, in robes 
Of perfect righteousness, fair as the sun, 
With all her virgins, her companions fair, — 
Info the Palace of the King she comes. 
She comes to dwell for evermore ! Awake, 
Eternal harps ! awake, awake, and sing ! — 
The Lord, the Lord, our God Almighty, reigns ! 

Tluis the Messiali, with the hosts of bliss. 
Entered the gates of heaven, unquestioned now. 



;..iO THE GOUUSE OP TIME. 

Which closed behind them to go out no more ; 
And stood, accepted in his Father's sight ; 
Before the glorious everlasting Throne, 
Presenting all his saints ; not one was lost, 
Of all that he in covenant received ; 
And having given the kingdom up, he sat, 
Where he now^ sits and reigns on the right hand 
Of glory ; and our God is all in all ! 

Thus have I sung beyond thy first request, 
Rolling my numbers o'er the track of man, 
The w^orld at dawn, at mid-day, and decline ; 
Time gone, the righteous saved, the wicked damn'd, 
And God's eternal government approved. 



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